Loyal Infidelity
by petite etoile22
Summary: AU Series 7. A messy AdamxRosxLucas triangle. When the Dead return home, they often find that the long, arduous journey has altered them beyond recognition. But some things never change. Loyal Infidelity was always a unique character trait of Ros's.
1. Chapter 1

_Semi-Crack!fic Plot bunny bit me and I had to post this chapter. It's a gloriously messy, angsty Adam/Ros/Lucas triangle, eg: AU S7 but it will contain some S7 canon. _

_Disclaimer: Spooks belongs to the BBC and Kudos. There are also little homages to 'Tigertrapped' at LJ's spooks fics._

_Hope you enjoy._

* * *

**6 Months Earlier:**

If Ros Myers knew all the pain and distress the note, slipped under her door mere moments ago, would bring; she hopes she would be clever enough to destroy it and carry on living her miserable half-existence.

But she doesn't.

So the Ros who knows nothing of the fate that awaits her, jumps at the life-line that has just been thrown to her. One can only tolerate small town cafes, and sleepless nights spent reliving your demise for so long.

It is raining when she makes the call. Then again, it seems to always be raining in England.

She feels like a caged animal, standing in the cramped phone box, forced to stare at the hundreds of calling card pasted to the walls as she waits for the call to connect.

That familiar and beautiful click.

"I got your message Mum."

"Good. How are you?"

Time appears to stand still, and the weaker part of Ros wants to cry at the fact that it's really Connie's voice on the other end of the line.

"I'm...fine."

She settles for the most practiced lie in the world. It also happens to be her favourite.

"Good. Your father and I were wondering if you'd like to come home, for a visit perhaps?"

The soothing and welcoming tone in Connie's voice, teamed with the implication of Harry's approval, almost makes Ros's legs go from under her.

"I'd like that very much."

The contents of a red holdall can only help you survive in the cold for so long.

"We look forward to having you. Oh darling, you wouldn't mind picking something up on the way?"

The catch. The price for her return. She doesn't care. Whatever it is she'll do it. She doesn't care, as long as gets her back on the Grid again.

"No problem. What do you want me to get?"

"Some vodka."

"Alright."

One word.

Two syllables.

Fate sealed.

* * *

Connie tries not to think about what she's about to do. As soon as Harry made the suggestion, she was on the phone to Qualtrough. It was perfect; Ros's intimate knowledge of the Motherland, teamed with her current isolation made her a perfect candidate for turning.

Qualtrough deemed her; inviable.

Ros had to die.

But Connie was cleverer than Qualtrough, she had to be. After all, she was on the riskier side of the operation. She suggested a test. Tell the Russians of Ros's position, let them do what they want with her, and if she lives to tell the tale, use her.

She can almost hear Kachimov's smile on the other side of the phone.

"Connie! It's a pleasure to hear your voice."

"I'm sure you'll find the information I have a damn sight more pleasurable."

"And what information is this?"

"Harry's dead little protege is coming to the Motherland."

"No! Little Rozalina Myers is returning to the land of her childhood?"

"Yes. But I doubt it will be a pleasant jaunt down memory lane."

"Spasiba."

"Puzhalsta."

* * *

The sunlight is dazzling when Ros leaves the airport. She is unaware that it is one of the last times she will see such light in a long time.

One file.

She just has to get one file.

Ros Myers knows that in this line of work, one file is never just one file.

She doesn't care.

She is certain of one thing though; in a few months time she'll be back where she belongs.

Ros makes it sixteen days before she's picked up.

* * *

**Present Day:**

Adam casts a sideways glance at Harry. The man looks tired; more so since the loss of his asset in Moscow. 'A formidable agent,' he had been told.

"So who are we getting?"

"Two officers. Hopefully."

"Hopefully?"

"The exchange is of two highly desired 'assets' each side wants."

"I take it you're hoping one of them is Rangefinder."

"Yes."

He's also hoping that Adam won't lose it when he discovers Rangefinder's real identity.

"You can't blame yourself for his capture. We're in this game of cat and mouse for the long-run. Think of the bigger picture."

Their car pulls in under the cover of an industrial car park. Harry turns to the two handcuffed passengers in the back seat.

"This better be them, or this will be the shortest walk you'll ever do."

Harry can't help but show his relief when he sees Lucas North stumble from the car, dazed when the dark hood comes off his head. The relief ceases when a second figure doesn't appear. Harry walks brusquely up to Kachimov.

"Where is she?" He hisses. "We had a deal."

"And I haven't gone back on my word Harry. I just thought you would appreciate some information instead. Under current...circumstances, I think it would be more valuble. Save innocent lives even."

"Where's the file?"

"You'll get it when my officers are safely home. But you mean to say that you'll abandon your own officer?"

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I expect that file on my desk the moment your men step foot on Russian soil."

Ros will understand.

It is his mantra all through the drive home.

And when they do get the file, when they do 'save the world' yet again, he hopes his mantra is the truth.

* * *

_"They said I could come back if I spied for them."_

And when Lucas brings him the news of yet another attack, Harry loses all patience. He is relieved when Luca's plan and Malcolm's tech wizardry that saves the day.

It means that Kachimov is no longer useful.

They stand on in the middle of a deserted brownfield site, and for a moment, Harry almost considers letting him go.

Until he opens his mouth.

"You win, Harry."

"Yes, I win. I'll try to make you as comfortable as possible."

"Well Harry, I bow to the better player. And I'm truly sorry about Rangefinder." Kachimov raises his hand to cut off Harry's retort. "Please, do not try and take the moral high ground. You and me, we're not so different. You regarded a file to be more important than an officer, yes? We see people as resources; easily replaceable. It is a shame really... Your Rangefinder; she is a pretty girl, is she not?"

Harry feels his blood run cold, as he senses the realisation that is dawning on Adam.

"And noble too. She refuses to tell us anything. She doesn't even beg for death, when bigger men have already taken the matter into their own hands. I do believe she is waiting for you. How foolish to place her trust in a man who does not even value her life above a sheet of paper. She is too trusting your Rangefinder, far too trusting."

"Goodbye Arkady."

"No!" He exclaims as Harry pulls the trigger.

He and Adam stare at the motionless body for several minutes.

"She went to get Zaf back. It was how Yalta got to her."

"I know."

"And you've just killed our best link to her.'

"Think of the bigger picture, Adam. Someone sold her out to the Russians. Someone sold her out, and I'm going to find that bastard that did."

* * *

Drowning.

Drowning.

She's fucking drowning.

And she knows what follows the drowning.

White lights.

Flickering.

Pain.

Flickering equals pain.

Ignore the lights.

Ignore the flickering.

Ignore the pain.

Easier.

Said.

Done.

Scream.

Don't talk.

Don't cry.

Scream.

Scream through it all.

Then there are the questions.

"Where do you want me to break it? Elbow or wrist, your choice."

"Wrist."

Elbow.

"You really think you have a choice?"

Maybe.

Once.

They put her with others like her.

Dangerous people.

Dangerous men.

They try and ink her with a heart.

They succeed.

When someone tries to take up that inked offer of her flesh, she breaks his jaw in five places.

No one tries again.

Not without giving her something in return first.

Laughter.

They think brief 'holidays' with the 'common folk' will mellow her; weaken her defences against their specialist interrogation methods.

"You may as well talk. Harry was given a choice to get you back six months ago, and he didn't take it. He's forgotten all about you my little Rozalina."

They think wrong.

"It's better if you talk this way. He doesn't want you Rozalina. Who wants a traitor in their fold?"

Silence.

"Well, it doesn't matter to me. You all talk in the end."

Drowning.

Drowning.

She's fucking drowning.

And she knows what follows the drowning.

* * *

_I know Ros would never find herself in a male/mixed prison; I used a huge amount of artistic licence because I wanted Ros to be uber-hardcore, and to increase her feelings of isolation (she is still alone in that envirionment) which are extremely important in future chapters because the prison is the same one as Luca's . For all those who think Harry wouldn't still shoot Arkady, I used artistic licence too. He just looked too smexy in the leather gloves, with the gun in his hand. *HarryLove*_

_It's a work of fiction (just look at the show:P), and I'm the least pedantic writer you'll probably ever come across._


	2. Chapter 2

Even the best plans backfire.

Especially when those 'best plans' rely on a certain Rosalind Myers.

Connie gets the phone call from Arkady's replacement (who definitely lacks the necessary sophistication and wit required), who tells her that Ros refuses to break.

"Well then, she's all yours. The only stipulation is that you don't do something stupid like kill her." A small nugget of conscience breaks through. "How is she?"

"Better than expected."

"This is Rosalind Myers, you should expect nothing. Perhaps I'll pay her a visit on my own return to the Motherland."

A cold laugh.

"I think she would appreciate a friendly face."

"Yes. It might even be capable of achieving what you seem unable to do."

"Dasvidania"

"Dasvidania"

* * *

Lucas hands him the 'Pilgrim' file, and Harry suddenly has an incredible urge to break something.

Bernard Qualtrough.

His mentor, and his friend sold them to the Russians. He sold Ros, and he could be the sole chink in Sugarhorse's armour.

"Is it significant?"

"Not particularly."

"So you can't use it-"

"No. But I'm going to get in contact with an old asset of mine in Russia. They'll be able to shed more light on the situation."

"You're going to try and use Qualtrough against them."

"When this information is released there'll be a storm in both camps. They'll want him dead. I'm willingly to give them that, if they return Rosalind to us."

"She won't be the same."

"You seem to be recovering well."

"I'm not Ros. From what Adam's told me, she could be...volatile at times. You think over a year in prison won't aggravate that?"

Harry doesn't answer.

* * *

Ros grimaces as she downs another shot of counterfeit vodka. She been here; in this ward, for a year now, and she's survived. Ros can smell the urine in the heated ink, and knows that it's time.

"Don't piss about. Just get it over with."

She watches silently as the heated metal sears her skin, fusing it with the make-shift ink. She's finally getting her cuff. Every tattoo had a personal iconography to its owner, but the cuffs were universal. You survived a year, you got cuffed. Hers was a cuff made of seemingly hundreds of tiny inked lines woven together.

The cuff given to those with life sentences; those who were never getting out.

Ros had chosen it. Because even if she did get out, even if she did return home, a part of her would stay behind these walls forever.

By the time they finish, her skin is red raw. A silent admiration descends onto the cell, proof that Ros has settled in well, at least amongst the gangsters and murderers. She keeps a pointed distance from the sex offenders. She returns to her cell, unfolding herself on her bunk.

"It's pretty." Her cellmate comments.

"I doubt that somehow Pyotr."

"Everything looks pretty on a delicate wrist."

Pyotr. Before his arrest, he was one of the most important contract killers in the Criminal Underworld; he knew the workings of nearly every criminal syndicate in the Moscow area. He stills does; one of the reasons why no one fucks with him.

Ros has to admit that she was surprised when he approached her at the canteen bench. It was a point of his never to go out of his way for anything or anyone.

* * *

**5 Months earlier:**

"You do know, that little friend of yours has finally returned from the hospital?"

"Still as pretty as ever?"

"No real damage; just his pride. He vows to fuck you five different ways though."

"Tell him if he tries, I'll do more damage lower down, much lower down."

"That heart on the back of your neck isn't going to disappear."

Ros doesn't break from eating her soup.

"I have a system, and it's working."

"If you change your mind..."

Ros wakes in the night to find a great weight on top of her and a shank pressed up against her neck.

"You thought you could get away with that shit? I wouldn't move if I were you. My friends are outside, and it'll be a whole lot worse if you struggle."

Ros says nothing as she feels his calloused hands move under the waistband of her trousers, or when he attempts to invade her with his fingers. She just smiles at the sight of a hand wrapped round his wrist, ceasing any potential movement, and another shank; this one pressed against his neck.

"Would you care to remove yourself from the lady and follow me, my friend?"

She finds out the next morning that he apparently committed suicide; by asking three inmates to jump on his torso over a hundred times.

Pytor approaches her in her cell.

"How are you feeling?"

"I've had worse mornings."

"So have you thought anymore on my offer?"

"What do you want from me?"

"Your intelligent conversation. How many jaws do you think you can break before you have to stop? Last night, proves that you can't win every fight. At least this way, it has a semblance of propriety."

"Fine."

And just like that, Ros gets herself a sponsor.

* * *

**Present Day:**

Adam can't believe what he's seeing when he walks into the Archive room to find Ben's corpse lying in a pool of blood.

The pieces fall into place with a horrific realisation. It's Connie; the mole is Connie.

He catches her at the pods, just as she is about to make her escape.

"Anything the matter?"

It takes all his resolve not break her neck right there.

"Operation Renaissance. That's where they turned you, isn't it?"

"It's too late. I've already handed over the names."

"They were the wrong ones." Harry's voice cuts across the Grid. "You lost, Connie."

She bares her teeth in anger.

"Why did you do it Connie?" Jo asks softly. "Ben had-"

"Ben was an unfortunate necessity."

"He was worth more than that."

"Pity you didn't think the same of Ros."

"You sold her out before she even touched down, didn't you?" Adam's voice cold with anger.

"Don't blame me. You were the ones who did nothing."

"Take her away." He orders.

"Pity. I was just about to make a long-awaited prison visit. No doubt I'll see you again."

"I sincerely hope not." Jo spits.

* * *

But they do. Because there is a bomb and London needs saving once more.

Connie is the only one; the Russians got to Qualtrough before they could.

And that's how they find themselves in an underground tunnel with a live nuclear bomb in front of them.

"Once I do that, the bomb will go off in my face. Go now."

Fifty seconds.

"Lucas, when it's one in the morning and you can't sleep because of the nightmares, who do you blame?"

"Harry."

Thirty five seconds.

"It's time to let go Lucas, he didn't sell you out."

"Who did?"

Thirty seconds.

"Who did?"

Twenty seven seconds.

"I did."

Twenty four seconds.

"And Ros?" Adam cuts in.

"Let her go. You have nothing to offer them anymore. Not me. Not Bernard. Nothing."

Twenty one seconds.

"Where is she?"

Nineteen seconds.

"Go!"

Lucas has to pull him away as he repeatedly screams the question at her. They hide in a side tunnel, feeling the shock of the explosion.

Adam doesn't get his answer.

* * *

Ros has her hands pressed flush against the wall as Pyotr takes her from behind. She blows the loose strands of hair from her face, biting her lip in thought.

"Pyotr?"

"Hmm?"

"I was thinking of getting another tattoo. A proper one this time."

"Where?" He grunts.

"My back."

"Hardly subtle."

"So?"

"Like it."

"Yes?" She hisses.

Ros feels him nod against her right shoulder blade.

"What icon?"

"Wings. Life-sized wings." She sighs, sensing him climax behind her.

They straighten up and return to their bunks as if nothing untoward has just occurred. Pyotr was being true to his word when he said he wanted her for her intelligent conversation. Then they arrived at the decision that throwing in an occasional fuck or two (because it would never amount to anything more intimate than that) wouldn't hurt anyone.

"I'll get Vadik to do it. He's the best."

"I should bloody hope so." Ros snorts, as she lights a thin cigarette.

"It take a long time to complete."

"Pyotr, I'm afraid it has become clear that I have all the time in the world."

She exhales slowly, watching the smoke dissipate before her eyes.

It's a pity the cold fury burning away in her gut can't go with it.


	3. Chapter 3

_The speech in Italics is Russian._

* * *

Lucas sits across from Harry, and wonders why Adam isn't here in his place. He wonders when he started to care so much about getting this Rosalind Myers home. But Lucas knows how he felt four years into his own prison sentence, and suspects Ros has received a much cruder experience, without the privilege of being under Arkady's skilled care.

"We have the possibility of a deal."

"Really?" Lucas can't keep the surprise from his voice.

"Six picked up one of the FSB's most valued officers. Six say we can have him when they're done; he's already agreed to it. Then we can arrange the swap."

"How did you manage that?"

"I reminded the Home Secretary that he owed us a few favours."

"When's the swap?"

"One month. Six want their information, and I need sort out Ros's papers."

"I think you should share the good news with Adam."

He tries not to think about the aftermath that will occur in four weeks' time. Not when he sees the nervous smile that adorns Adam's face. They waited for her, which is more than Elizabeta did for him.

But sometimes, he can't help but think that even if she had waited, it wouldn't have made a difference.

"Did you hear the good news mate?"

"Yeah, Harry just told me. Congratulations." Lucas says, trying to keep his voice bright.

"I'm just glad it's nearly over now."

Lucas doesn't know how to tell him that it's only just beginning. Actually, he just doesn't want to. Not when they all look so happy and relieved.

* * *

Ros shivers as Pyotr runs his fingers over her tattoo. It's been finished for nearly two years, but the ink has completely blended and the image nicely settled into her skin. Pyotr notes that when she moves, it seems as if the individual feathers are rippling. He knew Vadik was the best for a reason. Ros rolls onto her back and gives a feline stretch, before putting her top back on.

"Nekrasov wants you to pay him a visit."

Ros says nothing, just merely raises her eyebrow and shrugs.

"Okay."

"He couldn't object if I told him you refused."

"I know, he can hardly take it up with our new illustrious and god-fearing warden can he? Besides, it's Roman's 21st today. A boy should drink proper vodka when he becomes a man in here. You know only Nekrasov can get you the best."

"You're far too kind, my little Rozalina."

"No I'm not. Tell him it's a special offer, only for today." Ros announces with a wry smile, lighting up a cigarette.

"It's your 4th anniversary on Thursday, how to you intend to celebrate it?"

Ros stretches again, exposing her snake tattoo which curls itself round her calf before nestling its head just under her 2nd toe.

"Ink. Ovid. 'Dulce et decorum est, pro patria mori'."

"How apt."

"And then I let you shag me if you want. Can't think of anything better to do."

* * *

Ros accepts Nekrasov's payment of two bottles of vodka with a curt nod, before heading towards the doorway.

"I never knew you were so talented."

"You never will again."

"Perhaps?"

"Perhaps not."

Roman gets over-enthusiastic with his gift, and the smile on his face when he received the bottle, is definitely not there the next morning.

Ros is not there to see it.

They seem to have decided to try and break her one more time. She actually finds it vaguely amusing that they're attempting reverse psychology.

"Don't tell us anything, it doesn't matter. You obviously don't want to go home."

Ros can't help but laugh.

Home? What a funny word.

* * *

Adam wakes up on the morning of the swap, practically overflowing with energy. Four years. Four years of waiting has finally paid off. He sprints onto the Grid, eager to know what the final preparations are.

"Harry?"

"No changes at all. At 11pm tonight, we'll have her back."

"Thank God."

Jo notices that Lucas doesn't share their energy.

"What's wrong?"

"I remember that point in my own incarceration. It wasn't pretty.

"Well, we don't know anything-"

"You're right. We don't know anything about Ros. Not anymore." Lucas interrupts.

"So what do you want us to do?" Jo sounds incredulous.

"Be happy, but be wary. Ros has been working to a completely different moral code these past few years."

"So did you."

"Yes, but I had mellowed out somewhat by then. I managed to channel most of my anger towards Kachimov; Ros doesn't have that luxury."

"We'll help her through it. And there's Tring. The most important thing is that she's home."

'But she's not,' Lucas thinks wearily. 'She's just back in England.'

* * *

Ros is a cold fury when they put the hood over her head, and remains one when they bundle her into the boot of a second car. If this is another one of their mind games, she'll gladly give them a real crime to imprison her for. After all, she didn't even manage to get the bloody file that brought her to Moscow in the first place. She's nearly passed out from fatigue when they haul her from the car, and dump her unceremoniously on her feet.

Then they remove her hood.

"_What the fuck have you given me this time?"_

"_Your freedom, my little Rozalina. They bought you back. You're home."_

Not 10 paces from her, stands Harry Pearce, Adam Carter, and a dark haired man she doesn't recognise.

"_Well, aren't you going to say Hello?"_

Ros walks slowly towards the three men, but says nothing until they're driving in the opposite direction to their Russian counterparts.

"It's good to have you home, Rosalind." Harry greets.

"кто - он?"

"I'm Lucas North."

Ros catches sight of his wrist.

"Вы выбрали восьми-летнюю манжету? обнадеживающий распутник не был Вами?"

"No, not a hopeful fucker. I just had better starting circumstances than you did."

Ros admires his honesty. And the way he is doggedly replying in English, so the others have a hope in hell of understanding this conversation. She is dragged from her thoughts by a question; in Russian.

"Почему Вы выбирали приговор к пожизненному заключению?"

"Только, потому что я не нахожусь в России, не означает, что я свободен."

"What did she say?" Adam asks.

"She wants fish and chips." Lucas replies.

Ros merely smiles at the lie.

"Sorry, Wes's ride home has just bailed on him. One crisis to the next. Nothing ever really changes. I'm so glad you're home, Ros."

Then he leaves her outside the chippie, with a kiss on the lips.

* * *

The Grid is quiet as Harry leads her into his office. She notes with a morbid satisfaction that Connie is not amongst them.

They finally worked it out.

She takes a seat in one of the chairs, its soft leather bringing every ache of her body to attention.

"I'm afraid your debriefing has to begin first thing tomorrow morning.

"Хороший. Я не доверяют человеку, который не думал на вашем языке в течение прошлых четырех лет, также."

"She says she wouldn't trust a woman who hadn't thought in your language for the past four years, either." Lucas translates.

"So I'll speak in English." Ros whispers hoarsely. "Better yet, I'll give you a list of names. The Service still like names, don't they?"

Ros awkwardly scribbles on a sheet of paper, before handing it over to Harry. He scans the list quickly, then returns his gaze to Ros.

"A list of your interrogators?"

"No, it's a list of all the men I ever fucked during my incarceration. I take it there's a car waiting outside to take me to my safe house." She states before sweeping out of the room.

Both men are just grateful that Adam had to sort out an emergency with Wes, and wasn't present at what had just unfolded.

* * *

Lucas jogs down to his car, and heads off to the Location programmed into his Sat Nav. He discovers that she has been placed in the same area as his, albeit in the not-so-upmarket part. He rings the doorbell and prays that she'll answer to him. She opens the door and gestures for him to enter with a nod of her head.

"_You think I shouldn't have done that to Harry, don't you?"_

"_It doesn't really matter what I think."_

"_Sitting on the fence won't fucking help you. You of all people should know that."_

"_I don't think it was the most intelligent thing to do."_

"_I wanted to prepare him for what was coming in the debrief."_

"_You wanted to hurt him."_

"_That too. Vodka? I got the driver to stop off at the offie."_

"_Sure," _he sighs._ "Why not?"_

Lucas watches as she liberally pours them measures of vodka.

"_Za vas."_

"_Za vas."_

They clink glasses. Ros downs her measure in one, before pouring herself another. Lucas follows suit.

"_Welcome back to England Rozalina."_

"_You know, you're the first person who hasn't referred to it as Home?"_

Lucas says nothing as she downs another measure with a dry laugh.

Ros Myers may be back in England, but she's a long way from home.

* * *

_The phrases Ros and Lucas spoke in Russian that I didn't write in English (bear in mind these went through babelfish):_

_1) Who is he?_

_2) You chose a ten year cuff? Hopeful fucker weren't you?  
_

_3) Why did you pick the life sentence?  
_

_4) Just because I'm not in Russia, doesn't mean I'm free._


	4. Chapter 4

Harry can feel the exhaustion clawing at his nerves, and his morning has just gotten substantially worse; Richard Dolby insists on leading the debrief. Harry just stares at him, Ros has already been waiting in the interview suite for ten minutes; he doubts she'll appreciate any further delay.

"Are you being serious Dolby?"

"You're too close to home on this one. Besides, we have to take into consideration the circumstances surrounding her initial departure."

"Circumstances, which I thought became very clear when Hogan was taken in as a Redback. It was a ruse! She was working for us the whole bloody time!"

"Then she'll tell me that won't she?"

"I want in."

"I'm sorry, no. You can watch from the observation room."

"Dolby-"

"I'm willingly to pull rank on this one. It is key we establish whose side she's on."

Harry is sorely tempted to point out that Dolby hauled _him_ to be interrogated, and then seemingly handed half the Sugarhorse network directly to a russian mole. Hardly, the best judge of character. He's just thankful Ros doesn't know that; he can't bear to think how insulted she would be.

* * *

Ros rolls herself a cigarette and is just about to light it when Richard Dolby enters the room.

"New law. You can't smoke in here; public workplace."

She proceeds to light up.

"I doubt the public even know this room exists."

Dolby grimaces but says nothing as he takes a seat on the opposite side of the metal desk.

"You know why you're here today."

"I do believe it's vaguely related to the fact that I've just returned from being in hostile captivity these past four years. Am I getting warm?"

"You're games won't work on me, Rosalind."

"Miss Myers. I do not know you. You are not my friend." Her voice is cold and harsh.

"Well, _Miss Myers_, let's start at the beginning shall we? Why were you in Moscow?"

"I got a message from Connie, telling me to retrieve a file -"

"You mean you were sent under the orders of a Russian mole?"

Harry watches through the glass as Ros takes a long drag of her cigarette. He sees the ripple of her neck and jaw muscles straining against her pale skin, as she tries to keep her annoyance in check. Adam is staring straight ahead, his eyes not leaving her face.

"Funnily enough, I didn't realise that fact until I was getting beaten senseless by two FSB interrogators. Still, I gather that I worked it out a damn sight earlier than you though."

"We can't all be fed information straight from the horse's mouth."

"Oh, don't tell me some poor sod had to die first?!"

"What information did they want?" Dolby continues, ignoring her barbed exclamation.

"It's very impolite not to answer when asked a question. I'll just assume your mother dragged you up. The questions were the usual sort; Who else is in Russia? What are MI5 trying to ascertain? And then there were some questions about my father. Those ran out of steam after a couple of months, seeing as I didn't speak to him since his arrest, which I was also responsible for."

"And?" Dolby asks, sensing there is more to what Ros is saying.

"And then you caught Connie. And you squirreled her away didn't you? That really pissed them off, I should know. Tell me, what did you need her for?"

"I'm afraid-"

"I signed the Secrets act when I was twenty-two; it's valid until the day I die."

"But you are dead, aren't you?"

"Then you don't need to debrief me. Just tell me how she died. That's all I'm interested in. Was it bloody?"

"She was caught up in an explosion."

"She got a head start on burning in Hell, then. Anyway, next question?"

"What methods did they use? Water boarding? Beatings? Electric shocks?"

"Kinky bugger aren't you?"

Lucas gathers from Harry and Adam's lack of change in their composure, that Ros was like this before Russia, albeit slightly less angry.

"It's so we can help protect future assets." Dolby snaps, showing Ros that she is clearly getting under his skin.

Good.

"All of the above, and a bit of pitiful reverse psychology thrown in."

"And where did they move you afterwards."

"The same prison as your Lucas North."

"But that's-"

"A male prison? My God, you are a clever boy. I don't what the Service would do without you."

"How did you survive?"

"Oh come on now, even you're not that stupid." Ros purrs, running her foot up his inside leg. "I can turn tricks like you wouldn't believe. I could show you, if you like. As long as you forget all about this silly debrief."

Dolby jumps back from the table and scurries out of the room.

"Is that it?" Ros snorts. "Pity, I was just starting to enjoy myself."

* * *

Lucas knocks softly on the door, before entering Harry's office. The older man is at his desk, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose whilst the other hand fiddles with the piece of paper in front of him. Lucas can only imagine how the events of the debrief must make him feel.

"She's just lashing out."

"And she has every right to do that." He sighs. "There's over 20 names on this sheet, Lucas."

"Ros has no emotional stigma attached to that list. It's not your fault."

"I sincerely wish I could believe that. I sent Ros to Moscow because she was officially dead. She was wholly deniable, and because of that reason, I could do bugger all to get her back. I had to wait for Hogan's name to be dragged through the mud, I had to wait for asset K, I had to wait for Qualtrough, I had to wait for Connie, I had to wait for Six to stumble across an officer who was worth the same as her. So in effect, I did nothing to get her back."

"You know that's not true. If you could've done something sooner, you would've."

"I know. You should talk to her Lucas."

"Me?"

"You know what she's been through. That's enough for now."

Lucas thinks back to the previous night, and his conversation with the woman.

"I suppose it is."

* * *

Ros sighs, taking a seat on one of the desks in the Forgery suite. She smiles as Malcolm tells her about all the changes that have occurred in technology. It's almost relaxing, just sitting there, listening to the hum of the machines and Malcolm.

"How are you Rosalind?" Malcolm asks, with a beautiful tone of concern in his voice.

"Don't worry about me, Malcolm. I'll be fine."

"Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, please. I gather Dolby isn't too enamoured with me."

"To say the least. He's handed your debrief over to Harry."

"Who's just rubber-stamped me through?"

"He believes four years of not leaking a single piece of information, is proof enough of your loyalty. We all do."

Ros takes a sip of her tea, coughing slightly when her taste buds come into contact with the sweet sugar.

"I'd better see if I can head off now. Boxes don't unpack themselves."

Adam catches up with her on the way to the pods.

"What the hell were you doing?"

"I believe I was having what you call 'a debrief'."

"Ros-"

"I have to go now. I don't have clearance yet, and I have a safe house/flat to move into."

* * *

It is over a week before Adam has a proper chance to see her again. He stands outside the door to her flat, cursing himself for feeling so nervous. The first thing he notices when she opens the door, is the ink. She was wearing long sleeves and trousers the previous times he had seen her.

"Are you coming in, or not?" Ros asks with a devious smile.

He follows her into the living room, and notes that she is finished with her unpacking. Not that she had a lot to unpack anyway; it's all Service issue for now.

"How are you bearing up?"

"As expected."

"I've missed you."

"Really?" She whispers settling herself on his lap. "I'm back, aren't I?"

She turns slightly, causing Adam to notice the tattoo on her neck.

"A love heart? Wh-"

Ros cuts of his questioning with a deep kiss, and the sensation of her hips grinding against his, drives any coherent thought far from Adam's mind. He wraps an arm round her waist, and it pains him to see how thin she has become, though not as much as the presence of those wings do.

"Why did you do it to yourself?"

Ros is grateful for the doorbell that prevents her from having to give an answer, and quickly dons her t-shirt and shorts.

* * *

Lucas thinks now is as good a time as any. Hopefully, she'll have finished packing and there'll be less opportunity for deflection.

"_Lucas."_

"_Sorry, I tried to call but there was no answer."_

"_I had a guest round, I still do actually."_

"_Oh, I'll come back."_

"_No, it's good that you're here. I need your help. I want to write a letter to a friend of mine."_

"_Okay. I didn't know you couldn't write."_

"_There was no real need where I was."_ She smiles wryly. She's not annoyed by his statement. She indicates to the two pieces of paper and pen on the kitchen counter. She's already written the note in English, he just has to translate.

"Who is it?" A voice calls from the vicinity of the bedroom. Adam's voice, to be precise.

"Lucas. He came to check up on me."

Adam emerges a few minutes later, hastily dressed, and with a warm grin on his face.

"Harry send you?" He asks.

"Something like that. Who do you want me to address this to?"

"Pyotr."

"Pyotr?"

"Just Pyotr."

Lucas knows who 'Just Pyotr' is, and is amazed. Pyotr rarely took anyone under his wing.

"Who's Pyotr?"

"он был моим спонсором."

Adam has quickly come to realise that Ros speaks in Russian whenever she doesn't want to answer his questions, so he just turns to Lucas for an explanation.

"He was her cellmate. Her sponsor." Lucas translates warily, sensing where this conversation is heading.

"Sponsor?"

"Yes. He was her...sponsor."

"He was my pimp. I think that's the word Lucas is looking for."

"And you're writing him a letter?"

"Oh please, don't sound so indignant. It's not how it sounds."

"Really?"

"Really." Lucas cuts in. "I know Pyotr. Ros probably already had a system in place. He was just giving her added security."

"And decent conversation."

"I just don't understand how you could agree to that!" Adam exclaims.

"I think you would if that man was the only person who had stood between you getting raped, and probably beaten to death. But it's a long story, and it really doesn't matter anymore, does it? It's over now."

Adam's reply is interrupted by his phone.

"I have to go. We'll talk later."

* * *

Lucas listens to the door slam shut behind them. Ros lights a cigarette, and takes a deep drag.

"Did you have to break the news to him like that?"

"Yes."

"Alright, then. I finished the letter."

"Thank you."

"It was just a note."

"No, I mean thank you for being the only one besides Malcolm who isn't offended by what's happened to me."

It's the most mellow Lucas has seen her in the fortnight since she got back.

"You're welcome. Bye Ros."

"Bye Lucas." She says softly, before seeing him out of her flat.

She kisses him gently on the cheek before closing the door behind him.

She angry with nearly everyone else but him.

No, she's definitely not angry with him.

Lucas almost wishes she was; it would make things a damn sight easier.


	5. Chapter 5

Lucas knows something is going to kick off the moment he catches sight of Ros waiting to come through the pods.

She's angry.

And it's clear that something has pushed her limits; she can no longer keep it in check. She barely steps out of the pods before her voice resonates across the Grid, in the general vicinity of Harry's office.

"A month, Harry? Are you fucking with me?"

"Can we talk about this in my office, Rosalind?"

"Gladly." She spits, following Harry and Adam through the door.

Lucas sits by Jo, feeling compelled to watch for reasons he can't quite explain.

No one dares to mention the profound sense of Deja-vu that is occurring.

* * *

"A month, Harry. A fucking month! You reinstated Lucas after 48 fucking hours! _Hours_, Harry!"

"Ros, we have to be sure-" Harry begins, keeping his voice as calm as possible.

"That I'm not a traitor?"

"That you're coping with what's happened to you."

"Pray tell, what exactly has happened to me?"

"Ros-" Adam cuts in.

"Don't."

"Adam's already told me about Pyotr." Harry sighs.

Jo leans back slightly when she sees Ros spin towards Adam, looking like a bull that has just seen a red flag.

"Where the fuck do you get off?!" She screams. "You people pretend to be so noble while you pity me about living with _such_ scum for the past four years. Let me tell you something, those people who you so aptly call _scum_, are some of the most honest people I've met. At least they know what they are."

"And I'm supposed to be proud that they _recognised_ they were pimping you out?" Adam snaps.

Lucas watches the glass paperweight burst into hundreds of shards as it narrowly misses Adam's head.

"You know nothing about me." She hisses. "Nothing. So don't you dare think you can judge what I did."

Ros storms from the Grid, with Adam hastily following.

* * *

He finds her on the roof, drumming her fingers urgently against the railing. She refuses to look at him.

"I'm sorry Ros. I shouldn't have said those things. I was just angry."

"And you think I'm not?"

"Of course you are, and you have every right to be. It's just that I care for you Ros, and it hurts me to know what you went through."

"But you don't. What would you say if I told you to double the names on the list I wrote?"

Both of them are silent for a moment.

"I wouldn't say anything. I wouldn't be able to."

"Why not?" She asks, turning to face him. Her gaze is intense and unrelenting.

"Because anything I said wouldn't stop those names from being on that list."

"Hmm."

"Would you like to go out to dinner with me tonight?"

"Tonight?"

"Yes."

"Is this a date?"

"Yes. I want to do things properly this time, Ros. Can I pick you up at 8?"

"Why not?"

* * *

She's still standing there half an hour later, when Jo comes up for a cigarette. Ros spots the blonde opening her pack out of the corner of her eye, and decides to make her presence known.

"Do you mind?" She asks, indicating to the pack.

"Not at all. I didn't know you smoked?"

"A habit I picked up."

"Hard one to abandon." Jo mutters as she lights up, before handing the lighter over.

"I haven't tried."

"Me neither." The younger spook laughs.

"So, do you want to catch me up on everything I've missed?"

"We found Zaf's body. Ben started to work for us, until Connie killed him."

"Ben?"

"The journalist you didn't like. The one who blew your cover."

"Oh. I'm sorry?"

"I appreciate the effort, but it's alright Ros. You didn't know him. And I...I was kidnapped by a torture cell shortly after you left. So was Adam."

"But they got you back."

"Not before I beat the man to death with my bare hands. He raped me. I killed him."

"Good."

"And what about you?"

"You wouldn't want to know. I have a...date tonight."

"With Adam?"

"Yes."

"What are you going to wear?"

"Clothes."

Jo rolls her eyes and takes another drag of her cigarette.

"You were always crap at this female bonding. C'mon."

"What?" Ros asks, slightly confused at the girl's sudden burst of energy.

"I'm taking you shopping. If you're going to wear 'clothes', you can at least wear ones that fit."

* * *

Adam has to admit that he's breath-taken when she answers her door later that evening. She's wearing charcoal grey trousers, coupled with a black twin set; elegant and sophisticated. She's even had her hair styled into a short bob; it suits her.

"You look beautiful."

"Jo picked it. Shall we go?" She suggests, before heading down the stairs, avoiding the lift.

He's picked a gorgeous restaurant, but Ros can't help feeling guilty when she sees how much the salad she ordered costs. He tells her to relax. It's his treat; a 'welcome back' present.

"How's Wes?"

"He's doing well. He made the rugby team, but he's not letting it get in the way of his GCSEs. He needs five As if he wants to stay on for 6th form."

"6th form already? You must be so proud."

"Yeah, I am."

"It's a nice restaurant."

"It was all the rage when it opened a couple of years ago, but it's mellowed out now."

"Hmm." Ros says, taking another sip from her wine glass.

* * *

An hour later, and they seem to be falling back into each other's step. Ros even starts laughing at his jokes. He insists on paying all the bill, and as they walk down the road to his car, they look like any other ordinary couple.

They laugh and chat like any other ordinary couple.

They act like any other ordinary couple.

Until they reach her flat.

"I had a really good time tonight."

"So did I, Ros."

Their chaste goodnight kiss deepens, and turns into something else all together. Before they know it Ros's cardigan is pooled by her feet, and Adam's tie is loose. They're both flushed and breathless.

"Would you like to come in?" She whispers with a coy smile.

But then he catches sight of the ink on her arms, and he remembers.

"I've got an early start on the Grid tomorrow. I'm sorry, it was the only way I could get off relatively early."

"Not a problem. I understand." She nods curtly, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Another time, promise. I'll call you."

"Of course."

Then he leaves her standing in the doorway of her flat, with a kiss.

It's on the cheek this time.


	6. Chapter 6

It's Lucas who offers to drive Ros into work on her first day back. Despite their string of successful dates, Adam still has to work all the hours god-send. It not his fault; it comes with the territory of running an op. At least, that's what Ros tells herself. There is a comfortable silence in the car, and when Lucas breaks it, it feels like a completely natural progression of events.

"So, how are you feeling?"

"Good. It'll be nice to give my brain cells something to do."

"I'm sure today's going to be filled to the brim with paperwork."

"That, and my psych assessment. What joy!" She exclaims drily.

"What are you going to tell them?"

"Whatever will get me back into the field."

Lucas says nothing as she winds down her window, and lights a cigarette.

"Tell me, who did you come back to?"

"No one. By the time I got back, she had moved on; started a whole new family of her own."

"You don't think it would've worked anyway."

"She didn't really know who I was. We weren't like you and Adam."

"Yeah, me and Adam."

The man who can't even bring himself to touch her.

"We're doing fine, aren't we?"

Lucas can't tell if that question is being addressed to himself, or her conscience.

* * *

"To complete your session, we're just going to do a quick word association excercise. Is that okay?"

Ros quells her urge to laugh.

" That's fine, Dr Jewel."

Dr Jewel shifts slightly in her chair.

"Then we'll begin: Water."

"Drowning."

"Long."

"Wait."

"Needle."

"Ink."

"Sin."

"Necessity."

"Sympathy."

"Annoyance."

"Hunger."

"Drink."

"Foreign."

"Me."

"Kiss."

"Touch."

"Pretty."

"Delicate."

"Woman."

"Alone."

"Thank you. That's all I need from you for now."

Ros says nothing as she walks out the room. She doesn't care what they think of her; she just wants to be back on the field.

* * *

They're watching a film at his flat when Ros decides to take matters into her own hands. Adam just watches her as she nestles herself in his lap, and starts placing gentle kisses along his collarbone. Adam only makes to speak when her kisses move decidedly lower down.

"Ros-"

She silences him with a kiss, then places the tips of her fingers over his mouth.

"Ssh, Trust me. I know what I'm doing."

Moments later, Adam finds that logic and reason have abandoned him. It's only when she changes the angle of her head, and he catches sight of the heart inked onto her skin, that he's able to find words again.

"Ros?"

"Hmm?"

The vibration nearly causes his whole body to spasm. He puts a gentle hand on the top of her head to still her actions.

"Ros-"

She cuts him off once more with a kiss. Ros feels her heart pounding in her chest, as _Adam_ is the one who deepens it.

Perhaps he did just want to do things properly.

Perhaps he was just taking things slow, waiting until he was sure _she _was ready.

Perhaps it had nothing to do with the things she had done, and the ink on her skin.

Perhaps.

And then he turns the television off, thus plunging the room into darkness.

Perhaps not.

* * *

She has her silent days, they all recognise that.

It frustrates Adam though; he thinks she should be able to talk to him.

She thinks he should be able to touch her.

Neither of them will tell the other that.

Ros feels trapped underneath all his good intentions. And sometimes, at night, once he's left after their _moment_ (in the dark of course, and he never stays long enough for the lights to come on, for her skin to be exposed), she wonders if she should've taken the magnesium powder to her flesh, like Pyotr had joked about doing. But then she thinks he might've hated the scars more. She doesn't understand him; she barely understands herself at this moment in time, and it angers her that understanding _him_ appears to be more important.

She pours a measure of vodka, and tells herself that she's not going to cry. Not for a pathetic reason like the fact that her boyfriend can't bear to look at her as he shags her. It doesn't help that she has to actively turn him 'on' most of the time. And it really doesn't help that she can tell what he's thinking as she does it.

'Did she do this with _them_?'

Ros knows the answer to that question is 'Yes'. But she can't understand why she has to apologise for a situation that was never in her hands to begin with. But she still whispers 'Sorry' every single time he closes the door behind him.

And then she's just left sitting in the dark, thinking terrible things that always make her feel so guilty afterwards.

* * *

Lucas approaches her desk, after agreeing to Harry's request to talk to her ( he is still wary of her mental state). He notes that she has read the same paragraph of a file at least four times since he perched on the corner of her desk.

"Take a break Ros."

"I don't need one." She murmurs, refusing to look up.

"Go for a walk. The fresh air might clear your head."

"You're not going to leave me alone, are you?"

"No." He answers with a smile.

"Fine." Ros sighs. "I needed to buy some tobacco anyway."

Ros just raises her eyebrow when Lucas follows her out, and guides her to his car. She gets in without word, only breaking the silence with a laugh when she finds fresh tobacco, rolling papers, and a lighter in his glove compartment.

"Trying to bribe me now?" She teases, starting to roll her cigarette.

"Is it working?"

"What do you think?"

"I thought you might appreciate some thinking space." Lucas states as he pulls out of Thames House car park.

"Where are you taking me?"

"To an old stomping ground of mine. No risk of getting hassled, but the view shit. Then again, I'm sure we've both had shitter."

Ros laughs again, bright and clear, before taking a drag on her roll-up.

* * *

He's right, the view is shit. But with no one watching her every move, Ros feels like she is able to speak her mind for the first time in over two months.

"I think I want to go back." She whispers, seemingly nervous of his reaction. After all, he had spent twice as long in there as her.

"No you don't. You're still adjusting. It takes a while, believe me. You're bound to feel a bit...foreign."

Ros shakes her head.

"I've always been an outsider in Section D... He barely touches me, Lucas. He's meant to love me, but he can barely bring himself to look at me. And it makes me feel guilty."

"Why?"

"Because it seems as if fucking him is the most important thing in my life. How whorish is that?" She laughs bitterly.

"You're not a whore, Ros. You were in a problematic situation, and you found a solution."

"I had a system, and it worked." She sighs. "But I'm not working now. Nothing's working now."

Lucas says nothing. He understands she's doubting herself, and he understands why. Ros has spent the past four years of her life valuing herself on what she could get for her body; how sexually attractive she was. He doesn't judge her for it, and he doesn't judge the men; it was just another way of life, vastly different from Adam's. Ros doesn't want to know that she's pretty, she wants to know that she's not being judged.

"Sometimes I think I should applied the magnesium powder before I left. But then I wonder if it would have made any difference."

"I think there are lots of factors." Lucas states, placing his words carefully. He doesn't think it would be proper to tell her that she shouldn't have to change herself for Adam, that she's free to be herself now; that _he _believes her ink is beautiful.

"Would you sleep with me if I just had scarred skin?"

"I'd sleep with you even if you still had your tattoos." He decides to give her the honesty she deserves.

"Will you?"

"What?"

"Sleep with me."

"Ros-"

"You understand me Lucas. I feel like I'm drowning, and for one moment, just one, I'd like that feeling to stop. I-"

He kisses her before she can continue her reasoning.

* * *

On the back seat of a car, in an industrial park, in broad daylight; they make love.

Because that's what this is.

Because he looks her in the eye.

Because he tells her that's she perfect, tattoos and all.

Because she doesn't feel like she's being judged.

Because despite being so painfully exposed, she feels safe.

Ros sobs as she experiences her first orgasm in nearly half a decade.

She doesn't stop crying, even when Lucas holds her tight and rubs soothing patterns over her wings.

It rains.

And questions have to be answered.

"What about Adam?"

"He doesn't love me; he just loves the idea of saving me, of saving who I was." Ros answers in a small voice.

"Do you love him?"

He feels her shake her head against his chest.

"I don't think I'm capable of loving anyone right now, but I can't leave him Lucas. I don't understand why, but I can't. I'm-I'm..." She can't bring herself to say the other word.

" I know." Lucas murmurs softly into her hair, understanding that she needs Adam to tell her the truth before she can let him go. She needs him to admit that he doesn't love what she's become; to recognise that she has changed.

"But I need you Lucas, I need you." She announces in a strangled whisper, clutching his forearms tightly.

"I know."

That's enough for now.


	7. Chapter 7

They drive to Thames House in silence; both just comfortable with being in each other's presence.

Lucas has no idea how he's going to make this work, he just knows that he wants to.

He wants her.

He smiles as her fingers wrap round his and squeeze them tightly.

It's going to be okay; they've both been through more difficult things than this.

* * *

As soon as they enter the Grid, Harry gestures for him to come to his office. Ros is already heading towards the showers; it wouldn't do to smell of another man while she was on her date with Adam. Lucas gently slides the door shut behind him, and takes a seat on the couch.

"Where were you?" Harry asks, concerned.

"I took her for a drive. I thought some time away from here might do her good."

"And did it?"

"I think so. She opened up to me a bit, let loose some of the things in her head." He informs softly.

"What did she say?"

"Harry, I don't th-"

"You don't have to recall it word for word, just tell me how she's feeling in general."

"She feels like she doesn't really belong. It's almost like she's a foreigner."

"You mean she's not settling in? Why?"

"I don't know, but I doubt it's for the reasons Richard Dolby would give. Harry, she's gone from a place where if you stay something, you generally mean it at face value, to somewhere with nearly every word having several meanings."

"Do you think it would be wise if I spoke to her?"

"You're going to have to bite the bullet sometime, Harry. Just not tonight."

"Why not?"

"I do believe she has a date to prepare for."

* * *

Adam and Ros go to a concerto, and she finds herself more easily moved than normal. It's obvious that Adam wants to ask her why, but she knows she will never be able to explain it to him. It has become apparent that if their relationship is to work, the words Pyotr and Russia do not exist. So telling him that she is crying because this is the movement Pyotr played to her the night her wings were finished and she couldn't sleep from the pain, is not an option.

"Are you alright, Ros?"

"I'm fine. It's just so long since I've gone to one of these." She lies instead.

The answer seems to satisfy him.

They take a walk along the southbank before making their way to Waterloo station (Ros insisted that they take the tube). Adam shields her from the late night revelers, and the general nighttime population of London. It looks like they're going to hers tonight, then again, they always go back to hers.

* * *

"Would you like to come in?"

"Yes."

She's wearing long sleeves tonight.

"Do want some tea?"

"No, I'm fine."

Ros sets the kettle down, and turns to face him.

"Do you want...something else then?" She asks, letting a seductive tone creep into her voice.

"Perhaps."

"And just what exactly would that something else be?"

"You." He whispers leaning into kiss her. They deepen it together, and then she breathes in.

She pulls away abruptly.

"I'm sorry. I can't..."

"What's wrong?"

"You're wearing his aftershave."

"Whose?"

Ros knows she can't wriggle her way out of an explanation this time.

"Pyotr's." She whispers.

He's halfway to out the door before she can even form her next sentence.

"Adam, please just let me explain-"

"It's fine. I understand."

"It's not what you think-"

"No, I believe it's exactly what I think."

She follows him down the stairs, and out onto the street.

"Adam! Adam!" She calls after him.

He carries on walking away, ignoring her plaintive cries.

"All I did was fuck him! That's all! Just like I fucked all those other men! What do you want me to say? That I'm a whore? Because I'm not Adam, I'm not! And I won't bloody say it just to make you happy! I had a system, and it worked!"

Adam spins round, anger etched into every feature.

"No, they had a system, and it involved pimping you out! How do you think that makes me feel?"

"You? What about how_ I_ feel? I slept with those men for practically nothing."

"So why did you do it?" He hisses.

"Because Pyotr cared for me, and protected me. Because the little they offered me was the most I was ever going to get. And if I was giving them what they wanted from me, at least - at least they weren't just taking it." Ros finishes in a broken whisper.

"Ros-"

"You should go. I'm sure you have an early start on the Grid tomorrow." She doesn't even look back as she heads into her block of flats.

* * *

Ros knows the early start included talking about her, the moment she steps onto the Grid only to have Harry call her into his office. Although she has to admit that she wasn't expecting the presence of the in-house doctor.

"What's going on Harry?"

"It's time for your medical."

"I had one the day after I got back. It's barely been three months."

"It's just to see how your health's improving."

"If that were the case, then you would've told me. What you're actually inflicting on me, is a random drug test. Christ, do you really not trust me at all?" She scoffs in disbelief.

"It has nothing to do with trust, Rosalind. You came up positive for narcotics in your last blood and urine sample."

"Well, that tends to happen when drugs are used as part of your transportation."

"You were also positive with opiates." Adam cuts in. "I doubt heroin's used in any transportation or interrogation method I know."

"What makes you think it was heroin?" Her voice trails off slightly, as realisation dawns on Ros. "Which one of you requested that I be screened for STIs as well?"

"Ros-" Harry begins.

"Which one?"

"We thought it best to be safe." Harry sighs.

"You both did?" The look on her face nearly breaks his heart.

"Adam, could you escort Dr. Smith to the medical room?"

He doesn't speak again until the door swings shut.

* * *

"It was just procedure. After you gave me that list, I had to. Just like this test is procedure; it says nothing about your character."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Yes. And I trust you Ros. But that doesn't mean I'm going to stand back and watch you drown. Did you use?"

She nods slowly. "Not all the time. Just when I was having a dark day. But I stopped using in my third year. Your test came back positive for morphine."

"Morphine? You were on the medical wing? That wasn't-"

"Not exactly." Ros interrupts softly. "Harry, I don't - It will only make you feel guilty, and I don't want that."

Harry places a hand on her arm in a gesture of reassurance.

"I will always feel guilty for what happened to you, because I was responsible for your welfare. But don't ever think that means you can't talk to me. And before you ask, I won't tell Adam. Nothing you say will leave these four walls."

When she finally speaks, it's barely audible. "I had a...a tear. It wasn't anything serious, so I just got hold of some morphine, and let nature take its course. It had almost healed by the time I got back."

"You were still injured when we got you back?" Harry tries to keep his voice as neutral as he can.

"It was nothing Harry. Aspirin dealt with the pain, and after 3 or 4 days it was fully healed."

"I'm sorry, Rosalind. I didn't think. It was insensitive of me not to bring the matter up with you."

"I'm glad you didn't. I wouldn't want you to think of things like that." She whispers tiredly, before heading out towards the medical room.

Harry breathes a heavy sigh, dropping his head into his hands. She'd spoken to him for the first time without hurling abuse or storming out; it was a start.

A very painful start.


	8. Chapter 8

J**_ust a little thank you to Birgitta, who reminded me that I had to deal with some rather important stuff. I did grant your wish, in a way. This chapter still deals with some quite sensitive issues though, which I've tried to deal with as best as I can, yet still keep it all in character. I hope I did alright._**

* * *

Three days later, Ros is sitting in the waiting for her results and the debrief to her check-up. She's drumming a random, nervous beat on the desk when Dr. Smith enters, the older woman giving Ros a small smile.

"Well?" Ros asks, unable to keep her impatience in check. She has to admit that she had never given much thought to her health when she was in prison. And now? Now she finds that the tests and what they might bring, scare her.

"You're clear. Of everything, even HIV."

"It would be slightly more reassuring if you didn't sound so surprised." She laughs nervously.

"Miss Myers, statistically, I should be handing you several death sentences right now. You're a miracle. I don't know how you did it."

"There was a man, called Pyotr. He was my sponsor." Ros has no idea why she choosing to tell this _stranger_ these things. Perhaps the very reason is because she is a stranger. Perhaps it is because she knows whatever she says will never leave this room. Perhaps it is because she desperately wants someone, _anyone_ to know the lengths Pyotr went to for her.

Dr. Smith nods, indicating that she understands.

"He took his responsibilities very seriously; did everything for me. He got my drugs, my needles, my condoms, everything. He even insisted that I piss in my own ink. And he was powerful; no one wanted to be responsible for my ill-health. The consequences weren't worth cutting the corners. Funny, isn't it? How fear can save a life."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to give you a full gynecology check-up. The doctor who did your first medical should've done this." She states softly.

"He was male, and I all but threw my urine sample at him. I didn't give him much of a chance, I'm afraid."

Ros says nothing more, as she lies back on the exam bed and puts her legs into the stirrups. She winces slightly as the cold metal of the forceps comes into contact with her skin.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?"

"I had a tear; just before I got back to England."

"Okay. Well, just try to relax."

Ros bites down on her lip as Dr. Smith finishes her examination. She carefully re-arranges her clothing before taking a seat at the desk again.

"Your tear was quite small, and seems to have healed nicely. There's no sign of infection at all. I take it, you were taking good care of yourself then."

"Yes."

"However, I did notice there was some other scarring. Do you have any idea what might've caused it?"

Ros nods slowly. "I had a spontaneous abortion. But um, they called in a female doctor and she made sure it was all gone. There were no real complications, besides the scarring."

"Have you talked to anyone about what happened?"

"There was - There is no need to. I was pregnant, then I wasn't. And that's it." Her voice is barely audible.

* * *

Ros sits at her desk twirling the small card between her fingertips. Apparently, that eloquent explanation hadn't been enough to stop Dr. Smith from giving her the therapist's card, and insisting on more tests; fertility tests this time. Ros thinks she already knows what those tests will say. She is dragged from her thoughts by Lucas taking a seat on the corner of her desk.

"So how did it go?" He asks gently.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"That's fine. I came to tell you about something else anyway. There's a russian film festival on at the moment, and I thought we could go see it, maybe have a meal afterwards..."

"You mean like a date?"

"If that's what you want to call it. Personally, I'm hoping it will be less awkward than that."

Ros laughs." I'd love to. So, I'll see you tonight, then."

"I'll pick you up at around 7:30, film starts at 9."

She's at the door, dressed and ready, at 7:29. Lucas smiles, before leaning in and kissing her softly on the cheek.

"Sorry, force of habit."

"At least, I know I can be early. I've been standing outside since 7.20. Force of habit." He laughs. Ros can't help but join in.

"What film are we seeing then?"

"A romantic comedy."

"I like it. Neutral. No risk of violence, angst, or flashbacks."

"My sentiments exactly."

He buys her popcorn and sprite, and they sit on the back-row. He grins when he sees the look of excitement on her face. Turns out, she was a big fan of the cinema when she was younger.

They go for a drink afterwards, and it involves no introspective reminiscing at all. Instead, they laugh, and joke, and tease, and flirt, until the landlord calls time.

His grand idea of a meal turns into a kebab on the way to the tube (he insists that they take the underground). They all but sprint down the escalators and onto the platform.

"Shit! The doors Lucas!"

Their laughter doesn't stop as they slip through the narrow gap of the closing doors, and stumble onto the carriage. Her face is flushed, and her hair slightly mussled, but Lucas still thinks she looks wonderful.

They go back to his place.

There's coffee.

And more.

* * *

The morning after is calm and still, with a slightly melancholy air. They look at each other through sleepy eyelids. Lucas has a feeling that she's going to talk to him today.

"I've been referred to a therapist."

"Ros, that was bound to happen."

"A bereavement specialist."

Lucas says nothing, choosing to pull her closer instead.

"I had a spontaneous abortion."

"Miscarriages are hard things to come to terms with, especially if you're alone." He murmurs into her blonde locks.

"It was a spontaneous abortion. I didn't have a miscarriage. Miscarriages are those terrible things that unfortunately happen to women who wanted and deserved children. I fell into neither category."

"Then why did you start using after it happened?"

Ros says nothing; she knew he had noticed the track marks on her hips from that very first time.

"I think you should go and see the therapist. Even if it's just to come to terms with the fact that you didn't want it in the first place."

"It wasn't fair. It's not fair." She whispers tearfully.

"I know it isn't."

He holds her even tighter as the sobs wrack her tiny frame.

Sometimes, the cost of surviving seems just too high.


	9. Chapter 9

Lucas watches Ros interact with Adam. He is neither jealous nor obsessed, merely intrigued. They play their parts well, he thinks. To everyone else they seem like the perfect couple, particularly Adam. He is thoughtful and charming, and takes her on wonderful dates. But Lucas notes that Ros can no longer be herself around him. Every single answer to any question Adam asks, is thought out to be as neutral as possible. And he doesn't think she's showed an inch of the skin above her wrists since returning to the Grid. Lucas marvels at how she can drop emotional bombshells, then return to work as if nothing has happened. He appears to have met an expert in compartmentalising; the Service would be proud. He doesn't notice Harry approach.

"She's good, isn't she?"

"At what?" He asks, masking his mild surprise.

"At pretending nothing's wrong... I didn't realise it would be that awful. I mean, I knew..."

"But you couldn't picture the full reality of it." He finishes, understanding his former mentor perfectly.

"At least she has Adam. And you, of course. Has she spoken to you lately?"

"A bit. She told me she was considering getting help."

"It's a step in the right direction. Convince her."

"I tried at the time." He admits, recalling their conversation earlier that morning. "I'm not sure if I got through to her."

"If you don't know, then you probably have. Ros always lets you know when she disagrees with your opinion." Harry says, the corner of his lips tugging slightly.

It's the closest thing he's seen to Harry smiling since Ros first got back.

* * *

Ros is grateful that her reins have finally been loosened slightly; she's off to meet an asset with Jo.

"The asset we're meeting with is called Greger. One of a bunch of small-time runners for an arms dealer; a real piece of work. The information he supplies us with is the only reason why we haven't handed him over yet."

The meeting place is a dank underpass somewhere in south London. Ros hangs back in the shadows.

"He's your asset and I wouldn't want to wrong-foot him."

Jo straightens up as Greger approaches her.

"So what have you got for me today?"

"There's going to be an attack. Today." He announces with a sickening smile.

"When? Where?"

"That would be telling, and I'm afraid your price is no longer high enough."

"And I don't think you're in a position to be making demands." Ros states coldly, as she steps from the shadows.

"Your good cop, bad cop routine won't work. Tell your boss that."

"Oh, I would," Ros purrs as she circles the man, "but there's one small problem; I don't know her boss, Gavrel."

Greger all but jumps out of his skin when she slides effortlessly into Russian, using his real name. He makes to sprint, but she fells him with a swift kick, keeping him in place with a strategically placed leg and an arm curled round his neck like a serpent.

"Shush, struggle and you'll break your own neck. We wouldn't want that now, would we?" She coos softly into his ear. "When is the attack?"

"I'm not-"

She delivers a sharp kick to his groin.

"Wrong answer, I'm afraid. When is the attack?" She delivers another blow before he has a chance to answer.

"6pm. Rush hour." He wheezes out.

"Where?"

"You think I'm going to tell you?"

Antoher blow to the groin.

"Wrong question. What you should be asking me is; How the hell do you know my name? To which I reply; Do you know Aleksei? Because he's not happy with you, not at all."

"H-How do you know Alek?"

Ros leans in close to his ear with a cruel smile, and Jo watches as the man physically crumples. She doesn't recognise this Ros, but understands how she survived almost half a decade in a male prison; it scares Jo slightly.

"Canary Wharf, Jubilee Line entrance. T-That's where I've been told to deliver it." Greger/Gavrel stammers.

Ros drops him abruptly, before strolling past Jo and heading out of the underpass.

"He could just go back and get them to change the details of the meet."

"He won't." Ros replies nonchalantly, lighting her roll-up. "Because he has to work out if he can make the drop and get out of the country, before one of Pyotr's men find him and carries out Aleksei's execution order. The answer is, he can't."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because I told him in no uncertain terms told him that Pyotr was my sponsor, Alexei made the order before my release, and that if a bomb did indeed go off, I would put bullet in his head regardless of the first two facts. Now, be a dear and make yourself useful, tell bomb disposal that there's a present waiting for them at Canary Wharf station, Jubilee Line."

"Wh-Where are you going?" Jo splutters in shock.

"I have an appointment that I simply can't miss. Not even for this."

* * *

Ros sits across from the therapist, and takes a deep breath. It's her third session and she hasn't spoken a word yet. That doesn't seem to matter. Her therapist understands that she has been forced into talking, these past four years. Now, they're finally going to do things at her pace, no matter how fast or slow that is. Ros thinks she is ready to talk; about the very beginning at least.

"I found out I was pregant, how most people would find out in soaps. I woke up one morning and just emptied the contents of my stomach. At first I thought it was food poisoning."

"Did you really think that?" There's no accusation in her voice, just plain curiosity.

"Yes, I 'really' did. My cycle was so irregular then, that I actually thought I'd stopped altogether. Me being pregnant just wasn't a possibility."

"So what did you do?"

"I ignored it for a couple of days. When the sickness didn't go away, I admitted that I'd stupidly gotten myself pregnant, and that I had to deal with it."

"What were you planning to do?"

"Not what everyone assumes."

"And what do you think they assume, Ros?" The doctor asks gently.

"That I was planning to go through with some kind of Vera Drake termination with a hosepipe and a vat of boiling water."

"Were you considering a termination?"

"I doubt they would've let me."

"That wasn't my question, Ros."

Ros chooses to lapse back into her familiar silence.

"It's alright. We don't have to talk about that yet."

"No we don't, do we?" She smiles softly. The fact that no blow to the temple is coming as a result of her refusal to answer, is a novel thing indeed.

A very novel thing.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry is glad when she voluntarily enters his office to speak to him at the end of a particularly long day. She sits opposite him, leaning back in one the 'more comfortable' chairs, and Harry can't help but smile at her slightly less defensive gait. Ros sweeps some stray hair from her eyes, and returns it slightly.

"I thought I'd see how you were."

"I think that's meant to be my job, Ros." He says sincerely.

"I know... Do you ever have those days where you feel like you've fallen down the rabbit hole."

"Yes. I suspect everyone does."

"I feel like that all the time. It's not a bad thing, at least I don't think so, it's just unusual."

"What's wrong, Rosalind?"

"Nothing Harry, nothing at all. Things just seem to be falling into place all of a sudden."

"I'm glad to hear it. Remember Rosalind, if you ever need to talk-"

"You'll be here in your office."

"Most probably." Harry laughs.

"See you tomorrow."

"Goodnight Rosalind."

* * *

It's pouring down with rain; and Ros is the midst of a full-blown panic attack when Lucas finds her. She's hyperventilating, and her lips have a slight blue tint to them. Lucas silently removes his coat, placing it over her in a bid to give Ros some protection from the rain.

"I can't breathe! I can't breathe Lucas!" She sobs.

"It's okay. It's going to be okay. Just take deep breaths."

"I-I can't! I feel..like I'm..dr-drowning! I-I..."

Lucas takes her weight in his arms as she passes out.

It's strange, but she's grateful that when she comes round, she finds herself in a dank alcove; he didn't take her back to the Grid. It's still raining, and Ros can feel the panic welling up inside of her, but Lucas places a hand on either side of her face, forcing her to look at him.

"You're going to be okay. You're not drowning Ros, I wouldn't let you."

"Th-Thank you. I can't even do one simple asset meeting properly. I'm just so stupid and so _weak_." She spits out, bowing her head in shame.

"You don't. I read about the Thames Barrier. To go through that, then endure water torture..."

"I'd endured it before Russia, but it wasn't as bad for some reason. But there, there I could feel my lungs burn, and see the bubbles as the air rushed from my mouth. It was like being back at the barrier only ten times worse, because I could feel the hands on my neck and head, holding me down. I knew I wasn't going to break the surface unless they wanted me to."

"How long did it go on for?"

"The longest session lasted 24 days. Though I think I was unconscious for a few."

They walk slowly to the car, Lucas holding his coat over both their heads to shield them from the now lessening rain. Lucas knows her fear well; it's why he can only take shallow baths, and why he takes the poolside aspect of his physicals away from the rest of the team.

Some lessons are just too harsh to forget completely.

* * *

She spends the night with Adam. Neither Lucas nor Ros want her to, but they both agree that it's what's expected of her. She should seek comfort in the arms of her partner, not her lover. And to the rest of the world, not in the arms of a man she barely knows and seemingly only has a bond because of Russia.

But Adam is kind to her tonight, and she almost feels guilty.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Adam. Just a bit tired."

"Are you sure?"

"I just want to sleep." She sighs, burying her head into the soft pillow.

But the fear grips her long after Adam has held her safe in his arms. Because she is scared of one thing; one thought that has been plaguing her since she got 'home' - What if all these 'rabbit hole' days were simple lies? What if she had already clawed her out when Harry first welcomed her back? But what if she hasn't? What if she closes her eyes and opens them again to find herself strapped in that chair, her head plunged deep beneath the water, the hand on the back of her neck steadfast and irremovable, her lungs bursting and screaming in pain? What if?

"Please, I just want to sleep." Ros whispers desperately.

She doesn't.

She listens to the raindrops hitting her window instead.

* * *

Ros takes a seat next to Jo on the roof, and silently accepts the lighted cigarette. It has been three days since her panic attack and nothing has been said of it; she hopes it's for the right reason.

"I've been wanting to ask; where did you learn that move you used against Greger?"

"I had a variation of it used against me. I memorised the pressure points against my neck."

"It was a part of your interrogation?"

"No, it was how they managed to tattoo the heart on my neck."

"You didn't ask for that one?"

"Not many people wish to be labelled as a 'sex toy'."

There is a muted silence, punctuated by the hiss as they exhale their smoke .

"How do you keep on going?" Jo breathes.

"How did you?"

"I suppose I had to."

"There's your answer. If you want, I can teach you the move."

"I'd like that very much." She smiles warmly.

"Now I just have to find a volunteer. I'm sure Lucas wouldn't mind helping out." Ros muses, heading back inside.

"He'll agree; if you ask him nicely enough."

Ros is thankful that her back is turned, and that Jo cannot see the trace of a playful smile that adorns her features.

* * *

That 'smile' has long disappeared by the time she enters the doctor's office. Ros can't even bring herself to look at the doctor; her eyes are transfixed by the small brown envelope in the older woman's hands.

"My results?"

"Yes-"

"If you don't mind, I'd like to read them alone."

"Of course, and afterwards we'll book a-"

"There'll be no need. I don't want to know about alternatives. I don't want children. I never have." Ros whispers as she exits the doctor's.

It is in a nearby alleyway that Ros chooses to carefully open the envelope and read its contents. She crumples to the floor before she reaches the third sentence. She cries. And then, as she always does, she pulls herself together. Ros tears up the envelope and its contents, and throws them into the nearest rubbish bin.

It starts to rain.

She doesn't notice.


	11. Chapter 11

Lucas kisses her gently on the forehead as she lies peacefully in his arms. He knows she's not asleep, but she's resting, and that's enough for now. He has no idea what happened at her appointment; she's been stonewalling him on that subject for the past three weeks. Lucas hopes she'll be able to tell someone when she's ready, even if it's not him. She shifts slightly, and grey eyes meet green.

"What are you thinking about?" She asks softly.

"You."

"What about me?"

"Nothing, just how well you seem to be doing."

"Don't praise me just yet. After all, I'm currently committing adultery; hardly the sign of someone who has their life perfectly balanced."

"I think you're doing fine."

Ros almost wants to tell him how _unfine_ she's doing; how she feels her life is on the verge of falling to pieces around her. Instead, she chooses to give him a tender kiss on the lips.

"Do you want to know something Lucas?"

"What?"

"I think that in time, I might love you."

"I love you too."

"And now, I do believe we have to get back to work." Ros sighs, reaching for her jumper as Lucas pulls on his shirt.

She finds it funny that despite them meeting up in safe houses and on the back seats of cars, it never feels like some sordid little affair. Instead, it feel as if they have both found a little piece of the world that doesn't want to hurt them; some vague semblance of shelter, protecting them from the storm that is their past. If she's honest with herself, she actually feels like she's cheating on Lucas with Adam.

They enter the Grid, and Ros heads straight towards the vicinity of the showers and toilets. Lucas has taken to doing the same when he can, but he wonders when it will cease to matter that they smell of each other. Day by day, Lucas can see her resolve breaking; he hopes she doesn't break along with it. He knows that she will snap before Adam does; she's already lost too much, so she cannot afford to lose herself as well. Asa much as Adam wants or needs it, she will not change for him.

Not now.

She can't.

She just can't.

* * *

Ros sits in the now familiar chair, and takes a deep breath in before looking the therapist in the eyes. She almost feels guilty for talking about everything except the real reason she was sent to this specialist in the first place.

"I have to go to a Gala tomorrow. Work purposes."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"My skin. My tattoos. The fact that I won't be able to wear a dress."

"Do you want to wear a dress?"

"As stupid as it sounds, the answer's yes. I'd like to wear one."

"Have you spoken to a higher authority about this?"

"No." Ros answers mutely, thinking of Harry. She thinks he would let her wear one if it made her happy, but she knows that isn't the point. She wants to wear a dress because she wants to feel like a real woman again, and not some hybrid sex thing. She wants to walk into that room alone, yet feel how she feels when Lucas's arms are wrapped round her naked waist. Most of all, she wants to wear a dress because the op requires it.

"Perhaps you should. At the moment, you seem to be the only person who's holding yourself back. Tell me, what you think your tattoos mean, Ros?"

"They represent all the things I've done. All the bad things..."

"Is that what you really think, or what you believe you ought to think? You've survived some terrible things, Ros. It's alright to be proud of the fact that you survived."

"And tell me how I'm supposed to be proud when everyone else regards me with horror?"

"I don't think they're horrified with you. At what's happened to you - yes, but certainly not with you."

Ros nods slowly as if she were a schoolchild coming to terms with a particularly difficult equation.

"Try to have a more positive opinion of yourself."

"I do. I mean, I try. It's as positive as I can manage at the moment."

* * *

Ros actually laughs when she hears what's been proposed as her legend, pointedly ignoring Adam's glare. They want her to play the role of a russian escort.

"Saudi Prince dope routine again?" She asks Malcolm.

"Exactly." He confirms. "Though it has a bit more kick now."

"I like the sound of that, Malcolm."

She sweeps past Adam, following Malcolm into the Forgery Suite. Adam watches as she gently lowers her head to the table and allows Malcolm to insert her earpiece. He is too far away to see the white of her knuckles as she grips the desk. Malcolm sees though, and suspects that her previously 'irrational' fear has become far too rational during her long absence.

Adam catches her on the way to her desk.

"You don't have to do this."

"Why wouldn't I? I'm not sleeping with the man."

" I know, it's just-"

"It's just the fact that _you_ don't like it. Let do my job, properly. It's one of the few things that hasn't changed during my time away."

"I don't want you to rush into things, Ros."

"Rush? It's been over four months, and I've done nothing but paperwork, asset meetings, and surveillance. I haven't been let into the field once. I need to do this, Adam."

"I don't understand-"

"If you loved me, you'd understand. And even if you didn't, you'd at least know that I'm right. I have to do this, Adam. I'm going to do it whether you like it or not."

"Fine. But I'm coming in with you as back-up."

"We've got 4 hours before this thing starts, so you, Lucas, and I better go over every detail. I don't want a single chink in my armour."

"Lucas?"

"3 hours and 55 minutes. I suggest we head to the briefing room now." She states, ignoring the questioning tone in his voice. She doesn't want to answer it; that would require telling the truth.

The truth is, she requested that Lucas go in with her, under the pretense that he can speak Russian.

The truth is, she requested that Lucas go in with her because she trusts him with her whole being.

The truth is, she no longer trusts Adam like that.


	12. Chapter 12

Ros can't help but give a nervous smile as she steps onto the Grid; it would appear that all eyes are on her, she just hopes it's for the right reason. Adam can't believe his eyes when he sees her in that slinky black halterneck number. It clings to every curve, and it is then that Lucas and Adam realise that she has curves. It shows that she's eating properly again; the best sign of recovery. She turns around, and they note that she has chosen a dress with a back panel, thus covering most of her inked wings. However, her arms and legs remain bare; she is gaining back her pride.

"Do I look alright?"

"You'll knock them dead, Ros." Lucas answers in a soft and reassuring tone.

Neither one of them cares to mention that she should be having this exchange of words with the man standing next to him. Jo pulls them all from that train of thought; quite literally in Ros's case.

"What's wrong?" Ros questions, standing in the middle of a deserted corridor.

"You're healthy." Jo states.

"And?"

"You shouldn't be, really."

"I'm sorry I'm not closer to Death's door Joanna. What do you want me to do? Ring the bloody doorbell?"

"I'm not a fool, Ros. You're healthy because your body demands it."

"I thought all bodies demanded their owner's health." Ros scoffs.

"Especially when others rely on them." Jo stares at her pointedly, refusing to back down. "It's one thing endangering your own life, but quite another-"

"Don't say it!" Ros hisses as if she has been punched in the stomach. "I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong. I'm not. I can't be."

"Ros-" Jo begins, but the woman is already on the other side of the pods.

* * *

"Have you got all the information?" Adam murmurs, accepting a drink from the bartender. Ros is in one of the rooms upstairs with their target; the very thought is killing him.

"The device is in place. I'm-"

"Ros?"

All he can hear is her breathing; her outright refusal to talk to him.

"Adam, we have a problem. Two of Roberts' men are heading to Ros' floor; I'm on my way there now. Malcolm's cut the power to the lifts to stall any other potential threats."

"Shit! I'll be with you as soon as I can."

When Ros sees the wood of the room door splinter, she takes one quick glance to see if Roberts is still unconscious, and braces herself. This was definitely not in her plan for the evening. The door gives with a loud crack and Ros notes that neither of them seem to carrying firearms.

"I'm going to kill them." She sighs under her breath, with a mild presence of concern. Self-restraint in combat hadn't been top on her list these past few years.

"Just get out of there." Adam's voice, she thinks.

The first lunges towards her with no real forward planning (she is a woman in a gown and heels, after all), and she rewards that misjudgment with a quick blow to the throat (changing the angle of her hand so as not to break his windpipe), and another to the temple as he falls to the ground.

Ros narrowly avoids an abdominal blow from the second, and barely manages to keep her anger in check whilst shielding her torso from his blows. Her back takes most of the assault until she feels his ribs break beneath the pressure of her deftly placed elbow. She strikes again, ensuring a punctured lung and perhaps some additional damage to his diaphragm. He still attempts to pull a weapon on her, and Lucas bursts through the remains of the door, just in time to see Ros lose it. He can't say at what point she acquired the fire poker, but his brain only reconnects with the rest of his body after she has broken both her adversary's legs along with the rest of his ribcage.

"You can stop now, Ros." He states slowly, trying to hold her gaze.

Ros lands a final, savage blow to his head, then drops her makeshift weapon on the now blood-stained carpet. Lucas seems to understand that this was her version of a compromise.

"I need to go to bed." She says tiredly. Lucas only notices then that her nose is bleeding slightly, and that her arms and shoulders are beginning to show signs of bruising from the blows she almost religiously deflected away from her torso.

"I'll drive you." Adam cuts in from behind. Lucas is about to form an argument when she silences him with a barely perceptible shake of the head. She's tired, and she doesn't think she has the energy to lie, or omit the truth.

"I'll see you tomorrow Lucas."

* * *

They're silent throughout the drive home, and Ros can already feel her eyes slipping shut on their own accord. She's asleep by the time Adam pulls up in front of her block of flats. He gently carries her up the stairs, only putting her down to open the door.

Once inside, he removes her dress and shoes, replacing them with a large shirt, before arranging her carefully under the sheets. He heads back to the living room to pour himself a drink, happily noticing once more that she has put on weight since her arrival back home. She has lost that air of a recovering drug addict.

Ros shifts slightly in her sleep before settling back down; her breathing regular and even once more.

She sleeps deeply.

But there is a problem with such deep slumber; it tends to leave you trapped in your past.

* * *

_Her world comes crashing down on a Tuesday night; not that she'll ever admit that the mass of cells nestled just below her abdomen is actually her strongest reason for living at this very moment in time._

_She recognises the pain first, but not the reason. No, the reason doesn't come until she withdraws her hands from underneath the thin covers to find them dripping with her blood. With a howl of pain, she yanks back the covers to reveal a mass of crimson flowers that are rapidly blooming across her bedding._

_Pyotr is by her side in an instant. He knows what is happening to Ros. He also knows that she is drastically underweight, and that this will probably kill her if he doesn't get help soon._

"_You weren't supposed to know until tomorrow."_

_He suspects there will be nothing left to know in the morning._

_Ros doesn't hear his answer._

_She doesn't hear anything but the sound of her heartbeat in her ears._

"_You weren't supposed to know until tomorrow..."_

"_It doesn't matter."_

_But it does._

_Because tomorrow seems very far away right now._

_It does matter._

_Just like the pain that is ripping its way through her right now._

_It does matter._

_Just like the blood between her legs._

* * *

Just like the blood between her legs.

Ros can't tell if her scream woke her up, or if that primal scream began after her eyes shot open.

It's happening again.

There's no pain, but there's blood; it's happening again.

"Oh God. Oh God, no. No!" She wails in Russian.

Adam is already by her side, clutching her hand tightly. She grabs his upper arm with her free hand, and looks desperately into his blue eyes. She needs him to help her stop this.

"You need to get me to the hospital. Get me to the hospital now. It's happening again!" She shrieks in Russian.

Adam calls an ambulance and Lucas in quick succession. He may not understand a words she's saying but he can see the pain in her eyes, and knows that she needs help. Her cries are becoming more plaintive, and her vision is blurred from the salty tears.

It's the remembered pain that hurts and scares her the most. That awful burning, followed by the dull empty void. It's coming again, she knows it is; she's sure of it.

"It can't happen again. Please don't let it happen again. I cared, I really cared..." She whispers distraughtly as she's wheeled into the back of the ambulance. Adam tightly squeezes her hand, but he understands neither her words nor her pain.


	13. Chapter 13

Lucas and Adam are already standing when Harry's bursts through the ward's swing doors. Both men are relieved at the arrival of their superior officer; listed as her next-of-kin, the nurses had made it quite clear that they would be speaking to him and him alone.

"Thank God you're here Harry." Adam sighs. "They won't tell us a thing. They won't even let us see her!"

"She requested no visitors." Lucas explains softly. "She won't see anyone except you."

Harry nods brusquely, before heading over to the nurses' station. He waits in a fashion that can only be described as 'patient' for him, until a mellow voice from behind him catches his attention.

"Mr Pearce?"

"Yes? How's Rosalind?"

"Mother and baby are fine. Dr. Boyd, the gynaecologist in charge of Ms Myers case will tell you more later. You can see her now if you like."

* * *

Harry says nothing as he's led to her private room, still reeling from the shock of his somewhat 'accidental' discovery (a part of him suspects Ros had an idea that they would probably tell her next-of-kin). Ros is pregnant, and more importantly, it seems that she almost lost the child. A wave of guilt washes over him; it was most likely the Roberts incident that caused all this. Ros smiles tiredly as he enters the room, and the leaden feeling in his stomach disappears; She obviously doesn't think the same.

"Hello Rosalind. How are you feeling?" He inquires gently.

"I'm fine. I only look this shit because of the sedatives."

A pause.

"What happened Rosalind?"

"I had a full-blown panic attack. The doctors will be able to tell you more."

"That's not what I meant." He sighs.

But Ros is already asleep, the sedatives taking hold once more.

* * *

Harry is expecting the ambush that will occur as soon as he steps outside, but he still finds himself slightly wide-eyed at the speed at which the bombardment begins. Eventually, he manages to get them to the canteen and order three cups of black coffee, before answering their questions.

"She's fine. It was a panic attack of some kind."

"Do you know what caused it?"

"No. I'll have a better idea once I've spoken to her doctor."

"Ros didn't tell you?"

"No, Adam. She barely managed 'Hello Harry.' I think they gave her another sedative."

Harry notes that Lucas hasn't said a word throughout this whole exchange. He's merely sitting in the corner assimilating all this new information.

"Were you there as well, Lucas?"

"No. Adam called me; she was screaming in Russian."

"What did she say?"

"I don't know. By the time I got here, they were halfway through sedating her; she was incoherent." Lucas answers in a low and steady whisper.

Both men regard each other with fixed expressions. Harry doesn't believe a word he's saying; Lucas knows what Ros was screaming but he can't repeat it in front of Adam, and that one small fact suddenly makes everything that little bit sharper in his mind. He glances briefly at his watch before standing. Harry walks away, fully aware that the dark haired man is watching his every move.

* * *

Dr. Boyd is a different kind of doctor; one who is able to refrain from being patronising.

"Ms Myers suffered an acute panic attack. We've given her a lighter sedative this time, and we'll be keeping her in for a couple of nights."

"Why?" He asks, keeping his voice as neutral as possible.

"Asides from her physical injuries, Ros is also displaying symptoms of PTSD. We have to come up with a treatment plan for the duration of her pregnancy. We also want to make sure mother and baby show no further signs of distress."

"Do you know what caused the attack?"

"It isn't uncommon in cases with a similar history. The blood from the common occurrence of spotting triggers a flashback, in which the patient relives-"

"A miscarriage?" He finishes; undertones of grief slipping into his voice.

"Yes. Well, I'll leave you in peace now."

* * *

Harry says nothing as Ros reaches for his hand and clings to it tightly. She needs him to be her wisdom and her counsel. She needs him to be the family she no longer has, and never really had in the first place.

"The doctor told me you're both doing fine. The panic attack had no effect on your pregnancy."

"Why do you all keep saying that?" She whispers hoarsely.

"What?"

"Saying that I'm pregnant. I'm not pregnant, I can't be."

"Ros, you didn't-"

"Don't say it. Please don't say it Harry."

"You're pregnant, Ros." He sighs. "You're over five months gone."

"I can't. Not after before." She exclaims softly, silent tears rolling freely down her cheeks. Harry feels his heart constrict; he's only seen her cry once before, when she was 'dying'. The pain only gets worse when he realises that she has been steadily denying this was happening for weeks, because she's been afraid of losing everything again.

She had been pregnant during her incarceration.

And she had wanted the baby.

"That won't happen again, I won't let it. But you have to tell the father."

"Harry, I can't-"

"You can't leave them both hanging in the dark."

"You know?" Ros exclaims, horrified.

"Lucas' recent behaviour in the hospital pushed everything into place. Your talks weren't just talks; I can see that now. You have to tell Adam."

"It'll cut him to pieces." She sighs.

"It might do, but it's not a valid reason to back out."

"He'll hate me. He won't understand. He doesn't understand. It'll break everything."

"Tell him Rosalind." He breathes, squeezing her hand in reassurance. "You done something wrong, you know you did. But you didn't break a single thing; Connie did that the moment she sold you out."

A long silence.

"Can you send Lucas in first? I don't want him here when Adam finds out."

* * *

Lucas says nothing as he takes a seat at Ros' bedside. He's sure that Ros has just told Harry everything, and he's certainly sure that Harry's given her the same advice that he was given in regards to Juliet Shaw; end it. Particularly now she was...Particularly now.

"I'm pregnant. I found out from my fertility tests." She announces quietly and simply.

"I know. I worked it out from your cries."

"That's the problem with knowing spies; all the drama gets sucked from your life. Though I'm pretty sure my cries didn't tell you that you're the father."

"What about Adam?"

"He doesn't know yet."

"I meant, are you sure?"

"Don't insult my intelligence." Ros snaps. "I know how babies are made, and it involves neither abstinence or condoms; two of Adam's closest friends in his sexual relationship with me."

"I'm going to be a father." He exhales, recalling the image of Elizaveta swinging her son around. He was finally getting a family of his own. "What are we going to do?"

"We," Ros smiles involuntarily at the use of that word, "are going to find a place to live that isn't Service issue. In the meantime, you can go to my safe house and make up an overnight bag for me."

"They're keeping you in?"

"The doctors made a preliminary diagnosis of PTSD. I've spent too long pretending that this isn't real Lucas, but it is, and I want to do it properly."

He smiles at her softly as he stands by the door. "Everything's going to be fine, Ros. I'll make sure it is."

Ros closes her eyes, and braces herself for the conversation that is coming next.

A conversation she should've had a long time ago.


	14. Chapter 14

Ros can already feel the salty tears burning her eyes. Adam starts, and she raises a hand to stop him; she doesn't deserve his comfort. The concern present in his eyes is tearing her apart. She doesn't love him; a part of her fears that she never really did. That the words she'd spoken in that field all those years ago weren't empty rhetoric in a bid to make her death easier on him; they were the truth. They had been broken since day one, and the best thing she can do now is to throw the pieces away.

"I'm pregnant."

"But you can't be."

"I am."

Ros can see the quick flash of realisation in his blue eyes. "It's Pyotr's."

"Lucas' actually."

And Ros sees any trace of pity he had, disappear. Adam presses himself into the doorway. Ros has seen that tense posture once before; he threw a chair at her a few seconds later. She knows he won't do anything now. And though it sounds masochistic, she'd really appreciate it if he started screaming at her because the silence is suffocatingly painful.

"You slept with my friend?" He asks, his voice low.

"Yes."

"Are you going to deign to give me an explanation?"

"I will if you want one." Even as the words leave her mouth, she regrets slipping back into her defense mechanism of rhetoric.

"Don't play fucking games with me Ros! Not now!"

"Lucas loves me."

"I love you."

"No you don't," Ros states, shaking her head, "not really."

"How can you say that? I've been patient, I've cared, I've tried to help-"

"Trying to change me back into who I was 8 years ago, before I woke up in my own coffin is not trying to help."

"Ros-"

"You don't love me, you love _her_." Ros whispers, thinking back to that elusive woman she was before all this began.

"Ana? Your defense is Ana?"

"No, it is not bloody Ana. Don't you dare-"

"Don't I dare? Don't I dare? You're lying before me, telling me that you're having another man's child, but I have to do what you say?"

"And how do you think Bakshi felt? She was your asset, she was meant to mean nothing, and you got her _pregnant_!" She spits.

"It's not mine! I'm not the father!" Adam shouts in frustration.

"You know, I almost believed that myself. But it's you; whether you like it or not Adam, it's you. Connie found out."

"And you really believe a word that came out of that woman's mouth?"

"No, I believe the smiles on my interrogators faces as they gloated about it two days after I suffered a miscarriage."

"Ros-"

"But you're right; how fucking dare _I_. And yes, Ana _was_ different; she didn't mean anything. But I think I could love Lucas, and I can't love you. I don't love you. I don't think I ever really did."

Ros looks pointedly down at the IV drip in her hand, until she hears the door slam shut.

* * *

Harry spots Adam storming out of the hospital, and sprints after him. The agitated look on his face tells Harry that the confrontation wasn't as non-confrontational as he had hoped for.

"Adam!"

The blond spooks turns abruptly on his heel and stares at Harry.

"Did you know?"

"I found out just before you did."

"Do you think she would've told me if you hadn't said to?"

"Yes." Harry nods. "I think she would've. Adam, she needed time-"

"You know, I thought after everything she's been through, Ros would've given up on betrayal."

"She didn't mean to betray you Adam."

"No, she just slept with my friend."

"She didn't know how to tell you. Ros has never been the best at relationships, think of how she must've felt after 8 years of isolation."

"Harry, I get that you want me to understand her. Christ, I want to understand her. But you're forgetting that she just announced she had a miscarriage, and that now she's carrying another man's baby. I need to get my head round it."

"I know you do. But don't forget that there's a woman in there who's just coming round to the fact that in under four months time, she'll be having a baby. A woman, who also has to come to terms that she loved the child she did lose. Adam," Harry sighs, "Ros is pregnant and suffering from PTSD. And the doctors have just told me that she's too far into her pregnancy for them to give her medication. So she has to deal with this solo, with only Lucas and the team for support. She needs us Adam, and although you're feeling betrayed, you have to step up to the mark. I won't let you do anything else."

Adam sighs heavily. "I'm going home. I need some sleep."

* * *

Ros knows what's coming as soon as she feels that tightening sensation in her chest. She's having another attack, and this knowledge does nothing to comfort her.

Because all she can see is their faces as they tell her about Adam.

All she feel is the dull pain radiating from her hollow womb.

She's lost the baby.

Ros can feel herself hyperventilating, and desperately tries to calm down.

She hasn't lost the baby; Harry promised it wouldn't happen again.

A searing pain from within her ribcage blows logic out of the water.

She's lost the baby.

She's lost her baby again.

She screams; a gasping wail.

And through the haze of her fear, memory, and pain, she can hear voices.

"_It's alright Rosalind, you're just having another attack..."_

"No-no... M-M..."

"_We need you to calm down. Can you do that for us?"_

"Can't-Can't b-br..."

"_It's okay, Rosalind. We're going to give you a sedative now..."_

"M-My baby!" She exclaims in strangled cry.

"_Don't worry, it won't hurt the baby..."_

"My....M-My ba-baby..." She chokes out in between ragged gasps.

"_Your baby's going to be fine. You're going to be fine."_

A warm sensation running through her fingertips.

"_There we go. You just get some rest now..."_

Ros closes her eyes, embracing the artificial slumber.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Author's note:** Yeah, this is soo going beyond the fifteen chapters I originally had in mind.:_

_**Disclaimer:** Spooks belongs to the BBC and Kudos Productions._

* * *

Harry rubs his eyes, trying to keep exhaustion at bay, as he watches over Ros in her drug-fuelled sleep. He'd been there just as she was succumbing to the full effects of her attack. If he hadn't known better, he would've believed she was suffering a miscarriage. Even if the images she was seeing were false, the pain contained in those green eyes was devastatingly real. He raises his head as a nurse quietly enters the room.

"I need to take some obs, I won't be long."

Harry just nods. "Do you know what caused the attack?"

"No. The triggers are psychological; but we've managed to contact her therapist. She'll have a session later today."

"What should I do if she wakes up?"

"She'll most probably be disorientated, so just make sure you tell her that her baby's fine, and that she's safe."

She leaves him with a kind smile, bumping into Lucas on the way out.

* * *

Apprehension is coming off him in waves, yet Harry knows his movements will be silent and controlled for Ros' sake.

"I came back as soon as you called. What happened?" He asks, out of breath.

"She had another attack; they don't know what's triggering them, it's psychological."

"Did she think-"

"Yes." Harry answers sombrely, recalling the vivid grief in the woman's eyes.

It's only when Lucas sits down that Harry can see that the younger man is dead on his feet.

"Go and get a coffee, Lucas. You look like you could do with one."

"I'm fine Harry, really." He insists, the last part of his statement getting caught up in a jaw-cracking yawn.

"I know you want to be there for her, but I think you'll do a far better job with some caffeine inside you. When she was being sedated, you were out. Give her 10 seconds to readjust when she comes round."

"Are you sure?"

"Go on, I'll watch her. As soon as she stirs, I'll count to ten and then send for you."

"Thank you Harry."

"I'm just doing my job." He replies, finding overwhelming truth in the words of his answer. Somewhere along the line, being a father to Ros (and at times, Lucas) had become his role.

Harry pages Lucas as soon as Ros' hand shoots to cover her abdomen.

"The baby's fine." He whispers in answer to her silent question.

"Harry?"

"I'm right here. You had another attack."

"I really didn't want to." She exclaims, sounding faintly embarrassed.

"It wasn't your fault. You can't help these things; they just happen."

"But I don't want them to. I want... I just don't want all _this_" Ros sighs, tapping her head.

"I know. Lucas should be here any minute. I sent him to get some coffee."

"Does he know about this attack?"

Harry nods. "You have a session with the therapist today."

"That's good." She yawns lightly.

"You feel ready to talk now?"

"I doubt I'll ever feel 'ready', but I want to. Harry, what if these sessions trigger further attacks?"

"Then they trigger further attacks, and we do the best we can to get through them."

"I'm scared, Harry. I'm scared of what I'll remember."

"Don't be." Lucas cuts in softly. "It's over. You've got nothing to be afraid of, not now. Not with me."

* * *

The therapist sits patiently by Ros' bed until the pregnant spy indicates that she is ready to begin. Ros shifts into a more comfortable sitting position, and takes a deep breath; she is ready to begin. Dr. Hardison nods slowly, before giving a reassuring smile to Ros.

"Remember, if you don't want to talk, just raise your left hand and I'll stop."

Ros nods her head in understanding.

"Okay, then. What do you think happened last night?"

"The doctors said I suffered a panic attack."

"Yes, but what did you _think _was happening?"

"I thought it was like before." Ros exhales in a shaky breath.

"When you miscarried?" Hardison inquires gently.

"Yes."

"And do you want to talk about that?"

Ros is sorely tempted to raise her hand, and makes it halfway before slowly lowering it onto her lap. She does want to talk about it this time; she needs to.

"I remember the pain, and the blood, and Pyotr calling for help. I hadn't told him, but he wasn't angry. He just kept telling me to look at him. Then they took me from my cell; and the _blood_." She gasps.

Dr. Hardison says nothing, knowing that Ros will continue of her own accord.

"It happened as soon as they got me to the medical wing; it just _happened_. And then, it was over."

"What happened then, Ros?"

"They sent a female doctor to examine me; when she declared everything was 'fine', my interrogation started anew."

Hardison allows Ros to recover slightly before asking her next question. "Can you tell me about the interrogation?"

"I-They-" Ros starts, but she can already feel the tightening in her chest. "I- Oh God!"

Hardison is by her side in an instant."It's okay, Ros. We're not going to talk about it. That's all for today. Everything's fine. You're fine. Your baby's fine." She whispers, rubbing soothing circles on Ros' back.

It's several minutes before Ros is able to calm down completely, but she's pleased she didn't need to be sedated this time. Lucas takes her hand and squeezes it gently.

"I told you everything was going to be okay."

* * *

It is clear that Lucas is exhausted the moment Adam sees him in the bar later that evening.

"I'm glad you came."

"Well, we couldn't go on avoiding each other, could we?" Lucas smiles.

"I guess not."

"I just wanted to apologise; we never meant to hurt you. Ros never meant to hurt you."

"I know." Adam sighs heavily. "I just wish we'd been honest with each other from the start."

"We?" Lucas asks, slightly confused.

"I've done a lot of thinking today, and Ros was right; I never really loved her, not properly. I was in love with the idea of changing her into something for the better, especially when she returned from Russia."

"Why didn't you just tell her that?"

"I didn't want to be the bad guy. I wanted to fix her."

"You were never going to the bad guy; just the honest one."

"I thought they didn't exist in our line of work."

"That's why she needed you to be one." Lucas states gravely.

"I am going to be there for her, despite everything. She risked her life for me, and got me through my own PTSD."

"Time to return the favour?"

"That, and the fact that Harry won't let me do anything else. I'll need time, though." Adam exhales.

"I understand."

"And Ros?"

"She needs time of her own."


	16. Chapter 16

Ros is finally discharged from the clinic, and returns home to find that her home is now a modest two bedroom basement flat in south east London. Ros is shocked to say the least.

"I know it's not superb, but it's all I could find in two month's without the Service's help. You don't like it."

"Lucas, I love it." Ros exclaims. "I just didn't think you'd find a _home_ so soon."

"Harry gave me a few pointers; the market's changed a bit since I last went house hunting."

Her bump is now displaying itself proudly, and as Lucas leads her towards the second bedroom, he happily acknowledges that the month at Tring has done her the world of good.

"Notice anything?"

The room is seemingly bare, with magnolia walls. Ros steps slightly further in, and sees the little wooden cot.

"A present from the team." Lucas beams at her.

"They didn't..."

"Malcolm and Jo headed up the collection. What do you think?"

"I love it." She answers, sniffing slightly, causing a concerned look to flit across his features. "There's nothing wrong, really, I'm fine." She reassures him as she bursts into tears.

"I know. Come on, let's get your things unpacked." He murmurs softly in her ear as he wraps one arm round her waist, the other under her knees, and carries her carefully into the master bedroom.

He lies her down on their soft double bed, and allows her to rest her head on his lap. They sit in comfortable silence as he absent-mindedly runs his fingers through her blonde locks.

"Do you have to go into work tomorrow?" She whispers.

"Unfortunately, yes. Dolby's coming in for an observation; Harry's decided to let him feel important for the day."

The statement earns him a soft laugh from Ros; he's 'forgiven'.

"Now, let's move onto more important topics like, 'What do you want for dinner?'" He announces, conjuring up several take-away menus.

"The mildest and most fattening dish on that thai menu of yours."

"The mildest?" Lucas asks incredulously. The last time they'd gone out, she'd chosen some of the hottest dishes. Lucas wasn't surprised; after all, she had spent most of her childhood in South America, India, and Thailand.

"I've heard spicy food can induce labour. Anyway, the scent of cooked chilli makes me nauseous."

A part of Lucas suspects that he will miss these little traits once Ros has given birth.

* * *

Harry is at Lucas' side the moment he steps through the pods. He looks surprisingly relaxed for a man who has the head of the JIC sitting unattended in his office. Then again, Dolby's previous outings of intellectual prowess have proved that his chances of breaking Malcolm's firewalls are 'slim to none'.

"How's Rosalind?"

"Tired, but glad to be home."

"Tell her we're glad to have her back."

"Will do. Get me up to speed?"

"Gladly." Adam interjects from behind the pair. "We've a Dolby observation, and a level one asset touching down at City Airport this afternoon."

"Just another day in the office then."

Lucas can feel himself getting riled up as soon as Dolby shakes his hand with that inane smile of his.

"I heard about Rosalind. How is she holding up?"

"She's pregnant; not dying."

"I know, but what with her condition..."

"You mean the PTSD caused from y-"

"Shall we go?" Harry cuts in, abruptly diffusing the situation.

They head towards the meeting room in silence, and Lucas swears he hears Jo mutter something about 'atmosphere' and 'knife'. Adam leaves them by the pods, stating that he's 'popping out for a while', though Lucas is pretty sure of where the blonde spook is going. He can only say that it's about time.

* * *

Adam rings the doorbell, and waits nervously for someone to answer. He is just about to turn away when the door swings open to reveal a very pregnant, and very bleary-eyed Ros Myers. Adam can't help but smile.

"Sorry, I was having a nap."

"I can tell." He laughs, indicating to the crease running down one side of her face.

"Ha-bloody-ha." She snaps, though the grin on her face gives away her true feelings. "I suppose you'd better come in."

The flat is cosy, and Adam can clearly see how well their two personalities blend together.

"Would you like some tea? I'm afraid we've only got herbal; Lucas has refused to get any caffeine." She explains from the other side of the counter in the small kitchenette.

"Erm, Camomile?"

"Okay."

Adam watches as she bustles around the kitchen, and is surprised at how at home she looks. He takes a seat on a stool as she sets the two steaming cups down on the countertop.

"I just wanted to see where we stand."

"I'm not the one who was hurt, Adam."

"Really? I didn't hurt you at all?"

"I- You- It... Yes, you hurt me." She sighs eventually.

"Then let's draw a line under everything; start again."

"I'd like that. It's been too long since we've been friends."

"What are you doing later?" He asks sincerely.

"I've got another session with Hardison."

"How are the appointments?"

"Nice." Ros smiles, taking another sip of her tea. "Really nice."

* * *

Ros folds and unfolds the paper bag in her lap. She has no idea why she's so nervous, since she was the one who decided on this topic of discussion for their appointment. Even Dr. Hardison was mildly startled about her willingness to broach the subject; the previous attempts had resulted in quite serious panic attacks.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes." Ros murmurs. "The flashbacks are skirting round something."

"So you have any idea what it might be?"

"Something bad, I suppose. I want to know, but I want to be awake when I remember; I want to be sure that it's not real. I want to be in control."

"Then we'll begin. Whenever you're ready Rosalind."

* * *

_Ros rests her head on the cool, metallic desk in the interrogation room. They've been asking her questions for nearly 48 hours now. No sleep. No food. No answers. She doesn't have them. She doesn't have anything except..._

_Ros digs her nails into the palms of her trembling hands, and bites the inside of her mouth until she can taste the metallic bitter tang of her blood. She's starting to doubt that __**it **__happened._

_After they dry-drown her the third time, she decides that it didn't; because that is the only thing that will keep Ros from keeping her head under the surface of that icy water herself. For the first time since she was chained to a chair before Juliet and __**that **__needle, Ros is afraid. Arkady's replacement has no finesse; he cannot distinguish between breaking a person and __**breaking**__ a person. Ros knows that she has allowed herself to become many things, but she simply refuses to be broken; in either sense of the word._

"_Were you this conversational with your friend Adam?"_

_Ros finds herself involuntarily pulling against the restraints which bind her hands behind her back. They are crossing into dangerous territory._

"_Is that why he fucked the diplomat's wife?" The second interrogator joins in._

"_He got her pregnant." _

"_I know she was pregnant." She states slowly and carefully. "I bought the test myself."_

"_You misunderstand me Rozalina. The child is his." The first officer whispers next to her ear._

_Ros says nothing in response to this announcement._

"_Do you think that my friend is lying?"_

_She remains silent._

"_I'm not. Connie delivered the news."_

_Ros knows that they've had the information for months; she also knows (but refuses to admit) why they're telling her now._

"_What do you want me to do? Send a card?"_

"_Is that why you whore yourself out to the cells? To forget about him fucking her?"_

_Ros stands up abruptly, knocking back her chair. "Are you going to shut him up?" She demands, addressing the first interrogator. He says nothing, making his answer perfectly clear._

"_Are you jealous? Because she did what you couldn't do?"_

"_Fuck you." She hisses, before spitting in his face._

_He merely smiles, before delivering a savage blow to her abdomen. _

_Ros crumples to the floor with an ungodly cry._

_**It**__ happened._

_**It**__ was real._

_Just like the blood between her legs._

* * *

"I was referred back to the medical wing. 'Fine' had only meant that I wasn't going to hemorrhage to death in the next hour. It never meant that I had miraculously recovered from losing my baby."

"Was that the complication?"

"Yes. The complication that caused the scarring and so much more."

"What other effects did that time have on you?"

"Flashbacks. That was when the flashbacks started. Every night, every time I closed my eyes, I could see it- _feel_ it; the miscarriage happened on a loop, until I woke up because of the dull, hollow pain coming from something that no longer existed. I couldn't even close my eyes."

"How did you deal with this?" Dr. Hardison asks. She knows, but Ros has to acknowledge what she went through.

"I started using heroin."

"And did it work?"

"For a while, and then I decided to stop."

"Why?"

There is a long silence, punctuated by Ros' shaking breathing into the paper bag.

"I stopped... I stopped because when I used, I didn't see the blood; I saw nothing. It scared me, and it made me angry. I had lost my baby, and now I had lost my dreams too. I'd lost my hope."

"And you wanted your hope back."

"Oh no, I'd given up on that a while ago." Ros sighs, before continuing in a small voice. "I wanted my dreams back, even if it came with the blood and the pain. Because before the blood, there was a child. A child that I had loved secretly, and still loved- love deeply, and fiercely, and with all my heart. How could I ever want to forget that?"


	17. Chapter 17

Ros doesn't talk to Lucas about her sessions. He doesn't mind; at least she's talking to someone now. They walk in silence along the southbank. Ros is eight months pregnant now, and terrified. She sometimes has no idea how she is going to look after a child when there are days when she can barely bring herself to sit upright. Lucas pulls her closer to him, and she rest her head on his shoulder, calming slightly. She's home, and breathing fresh air; not locked in an isolation cell, away from anyone she could remotely call an acquaintance. They take a seat on a bench, and Lucas breaks the warm silence.

"What did they say at the clinic?"

"They don't think I shouldn't breast feed." Her head remains on his shoulder, staring straight ahead.

"They wanted to put you onto medication?"

"I'm high risk for post-natal depression." Ros shakes her head. "I refused. I want to do this properly, Lucas. I want everything to be perfect."

"I know you do. But please promise me you'll consider light medication if you feel you're getting worse in any way."

"...You know, I thought you'd try and make me agree to take them."

"Never." Lucas murmurs into her hair; he knows that she needs to feel in control with this pregnancy. "We're doing it your way until the end."

She shivers as they walk to Waterloo station, causing Lucas to hail a cab in lieu of public transport.

He holds her tight as they lie beneath the covers of their bed. She is afraid, and he can do nothing but hold her tighter. Lucas murmurs reassurances in her ear, and Ros finds that slumber is easier with his voice and body beside her as her constant. The nightmares fade slightly, until they seem like harmless shadows. And some nights, Ros even has the strength of imagination to feel like the past four years of her life, aren't necessarily her story to tell.

* * *

Ros Myers has a birth plan. A very precise and thought through birth plan. It's typed in size 10 courier new font, on 100g paper. The plan has been copied (duplex) 14 times with a staple in the top left-hand corner, thus ensuring that each member of the team (with spares) has a copy of the plan at home and at work. Every single member of the team knows the plan better than the official secrets act.

There is nothing in the plan about the baby coming three weeks early.

Ros feels the 'gush', and wakes with a silent scream of fear and panic. She can feel the dampness on her legs, but daren't put her hands under the covers. She woke from the pain. That tells her all she needs to know.

"Lucas!" She cries, finally managing to find her voice as another wave of pain hits. "There's something wrong with the baby!"

Lucas jumps to her aid, turning on the light and pulling back the soaked sheets; he wants to weep at the sight.

"Ros, you're waters have broken. It's not blood." He assures, raising her hands so she can see that they are void of that fatal crimson stain.

"But it's not supposed to be like this." She whispers.

"It's happening. It's not part of the plan, but it's happening. And that's okay."

"No, it's not part of the plan." She gasps, as the familiar tightening of her chest begins.

"It's going to be okay. I promise." He holds her close, and times the contractions.

"Don't leave me!" She wails as another contraction hits.

"I'm not leaving you. I'm phoning for an ambulance."

"Ros squeezes his hands tightly as they wait for the paramedics to arrive. Lucas can see her silently counting, trying to get her breathing under control.

"I'm scared Lucas." She gasps, feeling the tightness in her chest increase. "More scared than I was when they held me under the water, more scared than when Juliet loomed over me with that needle."

Lucas doesn't know what to say.

"I'm scared." She repeats in a small voice.

"Then we'll follow your plan."

"But it's too early!"

"Doesn't matter. We'll do our best."

By the time the paramedics arrive, she has calmed down sufficiently for the tightness in her chest to no longer be suffocating.

Harry and Adam are on the way to their respective cars before the call has even disconnected. Harry reaches the hospital first, where a young nurse points him in the right direction. Lucas' face lights up as he passes through the doors.

"What are you doing outside?" He demands, slightly concerned.

The fact that a smile now adorns Lucas' face, relieves him.

"She sent me out to see if you had arrived yet."

* * *

"Harry!" Ros smiles lopsidedly. "You came..."

"Gas and air." The midwife explains. "Rosalind is doing really well. We're managing to keep her breathing regulated without the use of sedatives."

Harry nods. "Of course I came. I promised."

She squeezes his hand fiercely as a contraction hits. The midwife looks up from her watch and quick examination with a kind smile.

"You're ready Ros. It's time."

"Time for what?" Both men ask instantly.

"We need to start delivery. Now Ros, your baby's in the breech position but that's nothing to worry about."

"Are you sure?" Ros gasps.

"Everything's going to be fine Ros. Now, I need you to take deep breaths, and when I say 'push', I want you to push as hard as you can."

"I can't!" She cries, shaking her head. "I'm not ready!"

"You are Rosalind. I know you can do this. You wouldn't be here otherwise." Harry states, looking her straight in the eyes.

"I'm sorry, but only one of you can stay now."

Harry rushes to Lucas, surprised that the younger man is opening the door to leave.

"Where exactly do you think you are going?"

"Harry, right now it's you she needs, not me."

"And I'm refusing to let you miss the birth of your child."

"Harry-"

"They're both staying." Ros' voice cuts across the whispered argument. "I can't do this without them."

"Ros-" The nurse starts.

"I won't push unless they're both in this room with me."

Everyone present knows Ros isn't one to make idle threats. The men take up their positions on either side of her hospital bed.

"When the contractions hit, I want you to push."

Ros lets out a muffled cry as she follows the nurse's instructions. Lucas kisses the top of her head, as Harry rubs soothing circles on the back of her hand.

"Very good Ros. And again."

Ros feels as if her chest is going to explode. She can't believe that such pain will end in something good.

"Come on Ros, push again."

"I can't, I can't push anymore!"

"You're nearly there Ros..." Lucas murmurs gently in her ear. "You're nearly there."

"Okay, and stop. Ros, I'm just going to make a quick incision-"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Your scarring is making things a little harder than usual; this will make the delivery easier on you."

"Harry!" Ros cries as the incision is made.

"I know, Ros. I know it hurts, but you're going to be fine. Isn't that right Lucas?"

"He's right. We wouldn't let anything bad happen to you."

"Now push!"

Ros cries from the pain, and both men have to steel themselves at the sight of her tears.

"Alright, Ros, one last push. You've done really well. Come on, now. Push!"

"I love you Lucas." Ros exhales, before letting out one final cry.

A cry that is followed by a much smaller, yet equally powerful cry.

"Congratulations." The nurse announces softly. "It's a girl."

Harry leaves quietly to relay the good news to the others who are now probably gathered outside, leaving the couple alone.

* * *

Ros is unable to hold back her tears as she cradles the tiny bundle in her exhausted arms. She did it.

"We have a little girl." Lucas whispers softly through his own veil of tears.

Ros nods; her capacity for speech has deserted her.

She has a daughter.

A daughter that moves, and cries, and breathes.

A daughter that lives.

"What shall we call her?"

"Anna." Ros whispers in awe of the child, handing her over to Lucas.

"My little Anna." He smiles. "I'm so proud of you both; my beautiful, clever girls."

"Well then," the nurse interrupts softly, "I'm just going to take Anna to SCUBU now."

"How long for?" Ros inquires desperately.

"Just overnight, but she's breathing without any problems so there's no need to worry. It's a precaution we take with all premature births. We'll keep you in for another couple of nights, just to give mother and baby a bit of space to recuperate. My colleague here is just going to give you some stitches, and then you can see Anna again."

* * *

Harry stands before the team and can't help the smile that radiates from his face.

"It's a girl. A beautiful, baby girl."

"Oh, that is marvellous news!" Malcolm exclaims.

"Tell Lucas that if they need anything, I'll hit the shops as soon as they open." Jo offers, though Harry suspects that Jo will be 'hitting the shops' regardless of whether they need things or not.

Adam just smiles; they did it.

They finally got their family.


	18. Chapter 18

**_Okay, I've used lots of artistic licence for this chapter. I believe in Angst over Realism. Angst is more fun to write._**

* * *

What little light slumber they were attempting to achieve is broken by a wailing cry. Lucas opens one eye to check the time; the near blinding LED lights inform him that it is 3:05am. They have been asleep for 2 hours and 12 minutes. He senses Ros get out of bed and kiss him tiredly on the temple.

"I'll spend the rest of the night in her room. You get some sleep."

"You sure?" He murmurs, already half-asleep.

"Absolutely." She yawns. "You've got work tomorrow."

Lucas' only response is a faint snore. Ros gathers Anna up in her arms, and arranges herself in the rocking chair by the window. The orange hue from the streetlights casts a warm glow around the room. It's quiet, and Ros feels safe there, tucked away from the world. She looks down at Anna's now slumbering form, scarcely believing she's real. She's a mother; the mere word bring tears to her eyes. Ros sets her three month old daughter down in the cot before resuming her seat in the old rocker. It is then that Ros knows that she's never going back to Five. When it comes down to it, it's time for someone else to save the country now; Ros Myers has her own little realm to defend.

Lucas enters Anna's room the next morning to find Ros asleep, head resting on the windowsill. He gently kisses her, causing Ros to open her eyes slightly. She gives him a disgruntled look similar to the ones cats give when they too are woken from their precious sleep.

"Oh God, it's daylight already." She groans.

"I made you some toast; it's on the side."

"You're going already?"

"I have to, otherwise I'll be late for the conference."

"Can't you stay a bit longer. I'd like to talk to someone who's got decent conversation."

"Adam's coming to drive you to your check-up." He reminds her.

"I know. And please stop sounding so guilty; you've come to all my other appointments with me. In fact, I think all the other partners are getting a bollocking because of your behaviour."

"I'll call you as soon as I'm on my way home."

"You always do." She whispers, kissing him on the lips. "Good luck with your speech."

"Bye." He smiles as he leans over the cot. "Bye bye darling."

"Go on, and make sure that bloody door doesn't wake her up."

"I'll try."

It does.

* * *

Harry greets Lucas with a large dossier and a warm smile, as they head towards his office. From a superficial glance, Lucas can tell that today's conference will be very long and very boring.

"How are Anna and Ros?"

"Fine. They've got a check-up today, well Ros has. Just to make sure she's coping."

"And is she?"

"Well, she only sleeps by the cot for three quarters of the night now. No, she's doing brilliantly."

"Good to hear. Here's the dossier for today's events." Harry announces, handing Lucas a folder nearly an inch thick. Lucas finds himself wondering why he didn't take Ros's offer earlier that morning. His mild self-pity is interrupted by Jo's cheery demeanour.

"How are you Lucas?"

"Great; asides from this conference."

"At least it's only for one day. You don't have to be away from Ros and Anna."

"No, I don't. Are you ready to take the reins this afternoon?"

"Yes." She replies, and Lucas is glad to hear no doubt in her voice. He still remembers when she was in trouble.

"Well then, I'll leave you to it." He smiles as he walks through the pods. He's slightly relieved that so far, the most threatening thing on his to-do list, is getting through this conference without falling asleep or dying of boredom.

Adam makes one last stop at Jo's desk before heading out to pick up Ros. He too is pleased at Jo's readiness to take command; he knows she'll make a great leader now.

"I'm leaving now, Jo."

"Okay, send my love to Ros and Anna."

"I'll see if we can swing by here afterwards, surprise Lucas when he gets back from his conference."

"I take it you're glad you're not such an expert on the Soviet."

"I'm ecstatic; I took a look at the dossier."

Jo laughs. "You best get a move on, you don't want to be late."

"Yes, boss. See you later."

"See you later."

* * *

Adam pulls up outside of their flat, and is surprised to see Ros standing in the doorway, front door ajar.

"I just got her settled." She whispers by way of an explanation. "She's been going since Lucas left this morning, so if you wake her, I will kill you. Tea?"

Adam nods mutely, not willing to take his chances just yet.

"You can speak, you know. I think her hissy fit this morning has tired her out. I doubt she'll wake even when the nurse is poking and prodding her."

"Have you got proper tea?"

"Yes, no coffee though." She answers, already boiling the kettle and preparing the mugs. "Cake?" She asks, looking up at Adam's half-laugh. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, you seem so at home in the kitchen. It's hard to believe."

"I went to traditional girls' schools; my mother insisted that my sister and I knew how to be domestic goddesses for our future husbands and sons."

Adam is slightly shocked; it is the first time she's spoken of her family in over 6 years. "I take it your sister was the better goddess."

"Actually, she can't cook to save her life. Another reason why my mother was so livid when I joined the service; 'A waste of talent', she said."

"Not anymore."

"No," Ros smiles. "Not anymore." She pours the tea and serves the cake in silence. Adam is just about to put the mug to his lips when she stop him. He follows her gaze past his shoulder. To the two male figures walking along the pavement, disappearing from view. To familiar bulge in their jackets; bulges in the shape of a gun with a silencer attached.

"Something tells me that they're not Jehovah's witnesses, Adam."

"Shit. Get Anna."

Ros is already halfway there, and silences him when she gently places her child in amongst the newspaper in the recycling box under the sink. "They're looking for me and Lucas, not Anna." She states, rummaging through the cupboards and drawers. "I can hardly fend them off with her in my arms, can I?"

"What if she wakes up?"

"We live in a basement flat, below an old lady and a family with two pre-school infants. They'll pick the locks; they can't afford to kick the door down. And I'm not fond of loud deaths." Ros whispers, picking up the phone and calling Lucas.

"Ros..."

"If anything happens, he'll have to pick her up. She's a baby Adam, she can't look after herself."

Adam nods in understanding, he would've done the same with Wes. "I'll stay in the kitchen, you head to the bedroom; it's closest to the front door. At least that way we have both entrances covered."

Ros gets into position and says nothing, waiting for the door to open. No one intrudes on her refuge and gets away with it. No one.

* * *

Jo gets the call and heads straight over to Malcolm's desk.

"GCHQ have just called. Someone from Section B was just lifted from their safe house. I want you to check in with all active officers currently residing in Service locations."

"On it."

"In fact, I want you to check in on all active Section D officers and their families. I'm not taking any chances on this one. I'll red flash Harry."

It takes Malcolm all of five minutes to find the undesired information.

"Jo, I can't get a hold of Rosalind."

"Okay, call Adam. She had her appointment today, they might still be out."

"The call can't connect."

"Shit!" Jo exclaims, pounding her fist on the table. "Malcolm pull up all the CCTV of that area. The bastards must've been picked up somewhere. GCHQ said a white transit van was possibly involved in the Section B abduction."

"What's the problem?" Harry demands, bursting through the pods.

"Ros and Adam have been lifted."

"Anna?"

"We don't know yet, but I've already sent a car to pick up Lucas and bring him here."

"The first CCTV images are coming through!" Malcolm calls out.

"Anything?"

"Nothing. There might be something in the second batch."

"Get Section B to send through their CCTV." Jo orders. "We'll be able to make comparisons then."

The hiss of the pods cause them all to spin round.

"Where are they?"

"We don't know." Harry answers gravely. "We're doing all we can."

Lucas reaches into his pocket at the sound of his phone's message tone.

"From whoever took them?" Jo asks.

"We won't know until I listen." He breathes, placing the phone to his ear. He almost collapses when he hears her voice.

"_Hi, it's Ros, the woman who gave birth to your child. I forgot to wish you luck with your speech. Adam and I have to pop out for a bit. I'll see you later. You forgot it's your turn to sort out the recycling. Bye, darling."_

"What does that mean?"

"It means Jo, that they didn't get Anna. We have to go to the flat."

"Lucas-" Harry begins.

"She's hidden Anna in the recycling. Don't ask. She's still in the flat, Jo."

"You and Harry go. We'll carry on here." Jo states. "We'll find the bastards, I promise."

* * *

As soon as the door opens, Lucas heads straight to the kitchen. Anna is lying amongst the newspapers; breathing, alive, and most probably hungry. Without a word, Lucas prepares a bottle of expressed milk. Harry leaves father and daughter in peace, and takes a look round the flat. Nothing seems out of place, except for the odd sign of a slight scuffle. Slight being the operative word until he reaches the master bedroom.

"Oh God." He exclaims softly.

The mattress is drenched in blood, and his gaze follows the crimson along on the walls and floor until he realises that he's standing in a pool of it. He steps back out of the room.

"Lucas."

"Yes?" He whispers, trying to soothe Anna into a slumber.

"I think you should take a look. I'll hold Anna."

Lucas holds the doorframe for support when he sees the bloody room. "She can't be dead, Harry."

"I never said she was." Harry says gently, knowing all to well what happens when pick ups go wrong. The only indication of her 'survival' is that there is no body.

"What are we going to do?" He asks, trying to stop the tears from falling.

"We're going to bring them back. And we're going to kill the bastards that took them." Harry answers, in a low and dangerous voice.


	19. Chapter 19

_**Again with the artistic licence and the angst. I can't believe this is the penultimate chapter, so expect an oscar speech of an author's note with my next update.**_

* * *

"Where the fuck is she? Surveillance says she doesn't leave the house til after lunch."

Adam chooses to step forward after it has become clear that no one will enter via the back door; he has to keep them as far from Anna as possible. He also knows that if they want any chance of getting out of here, Ros has to make her attack from behind. Adam takes a deep breath and steps into their eye line.

"Her boyfriend-"

"That ain't her boyfriend." One of them chuckles, drawing a gun Adam's fairly sure he's not going to use. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Ros appear in the doorway behind the more talkative of their intruders. Adam deliberately shifts his gaze towards the bedroom, praying he'll pick up on it. The fool does.

"Left her sleeping, did you? Deal with him while I get the girl."

He makes it three steps into the room before Ros slits his throat without hesitation, and watches the blood splatter onto walls she and Lucas had so carefully chosen paint for. She only becomes aware of the third intruder when she is hit by an excruciating pain in her left shoulder blade; they've slashed her.

"I told them guns would be useless at close range; especially with sneaky shits like you." She's pinned up against the wall, and fighting against this man's steadfast grip on her neck. And when he eventually lets go, Ros can do nothing as he flings her over his shoulder like a rag doll. The last coherent thought Ros is capable of, is the observation that the kitchen appears untouched; they didn't get to Anna.

Adam registers Ros's presence next to him, and the man she killed wrapped up in her bed sheets, at their feet. He releases the breath he's been holding when he feels her stir.

"Tell Lucas to choose a busier street next time he goes house hunting." Adam whispers in her ear.

Ros doesn't say anything, but neither does she complain when Adam pulls her onto his lap and positions her so she can rest without putting any weight on her injured shoulder.

"The bleeding's slowed down." Ros still doesn't respond. They both know there are far more ways to die than from simple bleeding.

* * *

They are tied back to back on hard wooden chairs, and Adam can feel her blood seeping into the material of his shirt. He's not worried as it's only residue; they stitched her up with crude black thread. She wouldn't tell them anything so they didn't give her any painkillers. They obviously plan to keep them here for quite some time. For a second, he wonders if they're being held by a faction of the Redbacks, until he comes to the conclusion that it doesn't really matter who's holding them, they just have to make it home.

"How are you holding up Ros?"

"Fine." Her voice is steady, but there is that slight telltale wheeze informing him that she is staving off a panic attack. He doesn't think she's had one since Anna was born.

"Are you doing your counting?"

"I'm trying to."

"Everything's going to be fine."

"You know they're probably going to kill us."

"Don't think like that Ros."

"I'm being objective."

"How is that objective?"

"Because I'm preparing myself. I don't want it to be like last time."

A long silence, broken only by the entrance of one of their captors. He laughs, and gives them both a predatory smile.

"Now, who wants to go first? Don't all rush at once! Ros?"

Adam senses her tense behind him, and the urge to punch this bastard becomes overwhelming.

"Come on Ros, don't be so shy." Their captor teases, trailing a hand over her body. Adam struggles to keep his cool as she desperately tries to prevent herself from hyperventilating. "Shame, we could've had so much fun." Is their captor's last retort before throwing his glass of water in her face, and slamming the door behind him.

"One...Two...Th-Three...Four...F-Five...S-Six...Se-ven...Eight...N-Nine...T-Ten..." She whispers aloud.

She's still counting; that tells Adam all he needs to know.

* * *

The call comes through at a quarter past five. Malcolm immediately runs a trace, but that's not enough to comfort Lucas; not when he's holding their daughter in his arms, not when he's asked the question he's asked.

"_Lucas North?"_

"Yes?"

"_You have a choice to make Lucas North."_

Four pairs of eyes lock onto him at that statement. "What kind of choice?"

"_Your girlfriend killed one of our men." _Lucas contains his sigh of relief; the blood wasn't hers. _"It's only fair we do the same. Fortunately, we're giving you a choice."_

"A choice?"

"_Which one do we execute? 30 mins, Mr North." _The voice states before ending the call.

"Did you get a trace?" Jo demands.

"Yes." Malcolm confirms with a nod. "If we deploy CO19 now, they might be able to make it."

"Do it." Jo orders. "'Might be' is all we've got, so it'll have to be good enough."

"If we stall, they'll just execute them both." Harry sighs, searching for a way to ensure the safety of both his officers.

"I can't choose." Lucas states quietly. "Ros wouldn't allow it."

"We don't expect you to choose." Jo assures. "We deployed CO19, that's all we can do."

"I'd like to be there. When CO19 go in, I want to be there." Lucas announces.

"I'll drive." Harry replies.

The thirty minutes arrives far too quickly for their liking, and before they know it, Lucas is patching them through.

"Hello?"

"_Have you come to a decision?"_

"I can't-"

"_Doesn't matter, we came to one of our own." _Two gunshots signal the end of the call.

The team are shrouded in a shocked silence.

There were two shots.

There were two fucking shots.

* * *

Adam knows all too well what it's like to be on the other side of that phone, and therefore knows the turmoil Lucas is going through. When Ros speaks, it's only to voice a conclusion that was inevitable from the start.

"I'm not letting him choose, I'm just not going to do it. I have to make the choice for him."

"Ros-"

"Don't worry, it's going to be okay."

"I'll do it."

"Don't be stupid. What about Wes? He needs someone to love and care for him. You don't want him to end up like me, do you?"

"And what about Anna?" Adam sees the pain in her eyes, but knows he has to make her think this through. He can't do a 'magic switch' this time.

"She has Lucas. He'll love her with all his strength, and tell her the truth about me. If you die, Wes will be alone and I won't let that happen to him. He's just a boy, no matter how grown up he seems, he's still your little boy."

"You're a good mother."

"Some of the time." She smiles, recalling their first encounters.

"No, you're a good mother." He repeats sincerely.

They are silent and calm, neither of them moving while their captors force them to their knees and bind them so they are looking directly into each other's eyes, arms round each other. Neither one of them wishes to think about what they've just done, about what will happen in mere moments.

"You're a good mother Ros." Adam whispers.

"_Hello?"_

"Have you come to a decision?" Their captor demands.

"_I can't-"_

"Doesn't matter, we came to one of our own."

Ros closes her eyes and leans into Adam for comfort. He realises that after all these years, she still smells of Fiona.

Funny.

He never noticed until now.


	20. Chapter 20

**_Author's Note: Not going to inflict an oscar speech on you, promise! I just wanted to say thank you to all those who have read and reviewed. It has been a joy to write this, and an accomplishment too. Well, rather sadly and reluctantly, I give you the final chapter. And for the last time, I don't own Spooks, BBC/Kudos do._

* * *

**

Lucas sits stoically in the front row with Wes at his side, and Anna on his lap. He thought it important that his daughter be here today. The memorial service is wonderful; no, more than wonderful, it's apt. He waits with Wes until half the procession has left the church, and the boy is ready to follow. Anna starts to wail, so Lucas carries her away from the graveside; other people need to pay their respects now. Harry approaches him, and gently guides him back to his car.

"Harry, I'm fine." he protests.

"You're in no state to drive."

They wait for Wes, and the drive home passes in silence. Harry enters the flat without needing to be asked. He briefly wonders if Lucas will sell it now; the blood may be gone, but the ghosts still remain. Besides, there's Wes to think of now.

"Shall I mind Anna while you get changed?"

Lucas nods gratefully before entering his bedroom. 'Their bedroom' he corrects himself mentally. He shrugs off his jacket and lies back on the bed with a sigh. It pains him that the sheets no longer smell of her. Lucas hastily strips off the rest of his suit, in favour of jeans and a t-shirt. When he emerges, Harry is cradling a sleeping Anna on the living room sofa; Wes has shut himself in the other bedroom.

"Are you going up there today?"

Lucas nods. "They're discharging her. I thought it best to wait until after the service."

"How is she?" Harry asks sincerely.

"She doesn't talk much, but when she does, it's about Anna and home. Will you come with me? I think she might appreciate another friendly face."

* * *

They drive up there in silence, with the exception of Anna babbling away in the backseat and Wes' occasional muted laughter. Lucas decides that he does believe in all that psychobabble about babies being 'healing'. If it wasn't for their daughter, he's pretty sure he would've lost Ros by now. Harry senses their nerves as the walk up to the modest countryhouse-turned-clinic. Wes is fiddling with the sleeve of his jumper when Lucas approaches the front desk.

"Hello, we're here to pick up Ros."

Lucas waits with bated breath while the nurse phones up to Ros' floor. He remembers the several occasions where she refused to see him.

"Go on up," the nurses states with a warm smile. "She's waiting for you."

Harry can't help but smile slightly when he sees how healthy she looks, even with the bandaging around her shoulder. He can imagine the damage the bullet did to her 'wing'. She refuses to get it touched up; her ink is a part of her now, and for that reason, they must endure her wounds too.

"Lina." Lucas whispers softly, catching her attention.

"Lucas!" Ros exclaims, clasping him and Anna close.

"Hello Rosalind." Harry greets.

It is then that Ros catches sight of the blond haired boy standing behind them.

"Wes?"

"I wanted to come along." He states in response to her unvoiced question.

"Lucas and I are going to show Anna the flowers outside." Harry suggests, sensing that the pair needed some time alone.

* * *

"I'm not angry with you." The boy whispers as soon as the door clicks shut behind them. "I tried to be, but I just couldn't do it. It didn't seem right."

Wes seems to understand that she is no longer one for talking, and so carries on unperturbed by her silence.

"And I think I know why he did it. It was just like when uncle Danny saved my mum. He got himself killed so they wouldn't hurt her. But they shot you anyway."

"It was an accident. He was too close; the bullet went through both of us."

"Did they give uncle Lucas a choice?"

"Yes."

"Who did he choose?"

"No one."

"But he loves you." Wes states, puzzled.

"That's why. He let me decide if I was ready to die."

"If you wanted to die, then why didn't my dad just let you?" he demands, struggling to keep the grief and anger from his voice.

"There's a difference between being ready to die, and wanting it." Harry cuts in softly.

Ros spins round at the sound of his voice, mildly surprised that she didn't hear him enter.

"Ros doesn't expect you to understand; no one does, because you shouldn't have to."

The atmosphere in the room becomes heavy and complicated; Wes quickly excuses himself in order to escape it. Harry watches the blonde for several moments, seeing no apparent change in demeanour.

"He's a clever boy." she whispers softly. "He knows I offered to die first."

"Everyone does. You wouldn't have been you otherwise."

"Debrief me, Harry. Or at least put me to sleep."

"Is that what you want?"

"I want to go home. Properly, this time."

"Then go. Lucas is downstairs waiting."

Ros makes it to the doorframe before she hesitates, turning back slowly and looking him straight in the eyes.

"You're not going to disappear on me are you?"

And for an instant, all her years in the Service melt away and he finds himself looking at young girl with her whole life in front of her, scared as hell of that fact. Ros has the chance to start again; he's going to make sure she does it properly.

"No, I'm not going to disppear on you."

* * *

**5 Years Later:**

"_Anna Lukainichna North, come back here now!"_

Lucas can't help but smile when he hears his wife's voice cut through the hall. Wes' graduation service is starting in a matter of minutes, and already his daughter has found some way of causing grief. And she must've done something quite bad, because Ros hardly ever shouted in Russian. It was a language they reserved to intimate, familial moments; a way of shutting out the horrors of the outside world. Even Wes had taken an intensive course in year 13 so he could join in; 'it was a part of them', he had said. A part that should be enjoyed, though he didn't always believe this when overhearing some of Lucas and Ros' more 'racier' conversations. Lucas just misses the little girl as she bolts past in yet another escape attempt from her mother's light scolding.

"Now, just what have you been up to, eh?" Harry inquires, scooping her up into his arms and handing her over to Lucas.

"How's Wes?"

"He's good. I think he just wants to get out there."

"Has he given any thoughts as to what he wants to do?"

"Six tried to recruit him."

"Oh?"

"He politely declined, and they stopped pestering him when Ros threatened to get involved."

"He's not his father." The blonde cut in, as they make their way to their seats.

"No, he's not." Harry agrees, catching sight of Wes and a dark-haired girl laughing on the corner of the stage.

They clap, and feel the pride that any other family would.

Because there are some things that are thicker than blood.

Ros doesn't know what they are; she just knows that they never change.

Not even after Death.

Not even after Russia.


End file.
